


Power and Control

by DreamingStill



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Eventual Smut, F/M, Minor Violence, Slow Burn, Some Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 113,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingStill/pseuds/DreamingStill
Summary: Baroness Rosabel Tyler, Rose to her friends, has received her long-awaited invitation to the Debutante Ball at the royal court of his Majesty, King Novem (Nine), of Gallifrey. The letter heralds the beginning of Rose's adventure as she journeys to Tardis palace making friends and enemies alike as she enters a world of grandeur, glittering parties, and scheming courtiers. Along the way she also learns that all is to play for, even matters of the heart, in the battle for power and control.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This story began as a 10k to 15k word fic and grew over the years to be over 110K and I'm so pleased to finally be able to share it. It's a prequel to Lilyandtherose's wonderful youtube series – Power and Control. Playlist link:   
> [Power and Control Series](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLauBJ_ZapLLyXixXXXVEVIQZZFlKI6Oa)  
> I also created an banner/aesthetic to go with this fic which you can see below.  
> Edit: Lilyandtherose has also created a wonderful and amazing trailer for the story:   
> [Ten Vs Nine | | Power And Control [The Prequel] [AU]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ka9NRnndI5g)
> 
> Chapter notes:  
> The names of the Doctors have been changed to Latin using Google Translate, e.g. Nine becomes Novem, Ten becomes Decem.  
> Latin: Nine = Novem  
> Warning: One brief mention of suicide
> 
> For Lilyandtherose. Without your ideas, support, patience, and friendship over the years this story would not have been possible, thank you. ^.^  
> Unbeta'd so forgive any mistakes. Enjoy!

The Tyler family lived in the Powell estate in Arcadia, the second city of the kingdom of Gallifrey. They were from a noble family, although they were not the wealthiest nor the most prestigious. They did not set trends at court, wear the latest fashion or have the finest jewels, but they were still of noble blood and heritage, and that was something to be proud of.

Baroness Rosabel Tyler, Rose to her friends, was the only daughter of Baron Pete Tyler and Baroness Jackie Tyler and heir to her family’s estate.

Nobility in Gallifrey was generally hereditary and was, by and large, passed down through the male line, although it could be passed down through the female line if there were no male heirs, such as in Rose’s case.

Rose’s father had died when she was a young child and it had just been her mother and herself since then. Rose had not long turned six when that fateful day came around, the day Pete died. All she could remember was her father’s hurried promise to her mother to have the lopsided back door fixed before he rushed out the front door with a chaotic energy that tinged most of Rose’s memories of him.

Over the years when they had the money, workers and tradespeople repaired the building replacing doors and carpets and furniture. Everything except that lopsided door. Whenever it was brought up her mother would forever insist, a little too shrilly, that she would organise for it to be done. It never was fixed. It was as if Jackie was still waiting for her husband to come home and organise it.

Despite their noble rank, the Tyler’s did not have much money. Although he had been a Baron, Rose’s father had also been an inventor and a businessman. Many of her father’s friends had invested their money wisely in anything they thought promising, with confident expectations of future gains. They had usually paid off, again and again. Unfortunately for Rose and Jackie, Pete had not been quite so clever or lucky. Failed ventures and poor investment choices led him to being branded a bad risk and accruing tremendous personal debt.

Jackie had done her best to raise Rose on her own and maintain the estate. It was not easy for a widowed mother to raise a child, particularly when they had been left with a large amount of debt to repay on Pete’s death. Most of their staff had been let go and for many years they had functioned on a skeleton crew of staff.

The Powell estate, often nicknamed Tyler manor, while never being a grand estate had lost most of its grandeur over the years. Nevertheless, it remained identifiable by its colourful bright red door which opened into a narrow hallway lined with many family portraits, several of which were of Rose’s father.

At the age of twenty-one Rose, who had spent so much of her life dreaming of a grand adventure, found herself on the verge of her own, and yet she remained somewhat reticent about the whole matter.

It was the last week of winter and Rose stood gazing out onto the small and somewhat bedraggled garden from the upper landing window. So lost in her own thoughts, Rose hardly noticed the garden or its unkempt state.

The cause of her preoccupation was the letter currently clutched in her hand which had arrived a week earlier. It was no ordinary letter; it was a letter from the royal court.

It read:

 _The Royal Court of His Majesty King Novem_ _of Gallifrey,_

_Requests the pleasure of Baroness Rosabel Tyler’s company,_

_At the Royal Palace in Gallifrey city on the evening of Saturday First of March,_

_For the annual Debutante Ball for all eligible young noble born Lords and Ladies._

_Signed,_

_Duchess Sarah Jane Smith,_

_And the Gallifreyan Royal Council._

Rose sighed and glanced down at the parchment, the glided royal crest, a galaxy swirl beneath a moon and three stars in the centre of the shield with a crown above a sun on top and decorative mantling to the sides, glinted up at her.

This letter heralded a new chapter in Rose’s life, one she was not sure she was ready for. Was it really what she wanted? To leave all she knew and loved behind, perhaps forever? Even if it was not what she wanted, it was what she and her mother needed. And that terrified Rose even more, the responsibility, the burden, of securing a good marriage for both their sakes.

Rose knew that an advantageous marriage would help resolve the family’s financial problems and alleviate her mother’s worries. But it would also mean leaving her mother, the only place she had called home, and where the memories of her father were.

She still remembered his laugh. How when he would come home, she would run to him and he would scoop her up and swing her around asking how his Little Wolf was or asking what great fortune she would bring to the family. He would tell her tales of how their family had adopted a wolf on the family crest, a full body silhouette of a howling wolf with roses entwined behind it. He would joke saying that one day she would grow up to be a big and strong wolf, ‘a Bad Wolf,’ that even the King would be scared of. Or he would describe the night she was born, that his Little Wolf had been born on the night of a full moon and when the wolf constellation, Keeper of the Moon, had shined its brightest in decades. The Keeper of the Moon was companion to the Gods and Goddesses, and it was said that those born on such a night would be granted favour by the Four and were destined for greatness.

After his death, when the creditors came calling and they could not pay their servant’s wages; when they had to ration their food and rework last year’s clothes, Rose would sit in his study and scowl at his portrait, asking “Where is my great fortune now, papa?”

Rose tore her gaze away from the garden and moved from the window. She headed up the narrow stairs to her bedroom hoping to take her mind off the impending trip. She pushed in the bedroom door and looked about the room, the open trunks, the dresses scattered haphazardly about the place.

With the invitation letter Rose was eligible to enter the royal court and attend the Debutante Ball, an annual ball for the young Lords and Ladies of the kingdom to officially enter court, and of course the marriage mart. The Ball was such an occasion that even those who were engaged or had arrangements already in place still attended. It was one of the highlights of the year, young ladies wore their best dresses and finest jewels while the young gentlemen wore their most stylishly embroidered and masterly crafted suits in order to appear their best in public. The Ball was the beginning of the serious chase with marriage as the ultimate goal, and by the end of the first year at court many relationships had been cemented and many a prestigious match was made.

Given her financial position Rose had not been able to purchase the new wardrobe for her debut that many of her peers would have. She had only been able to commission two new dresses and had been obliged to alter and modify many of her old dresses. It was not ideal, and Rose wished dearly that the circumstances were different, though she did not truly resent the situation. It was a way of life that she had grown up with and she knew no other way.

Sinking onto her bed, she aimlessly fiddled with the sleeve of a blue coat. Rose was tired of her life, tired of the same unyielding and never-ending routine, day in and day out. She had wanted an adventure and now she was on the cusp of her very own journey. But instead of the expected excitement and exhilaration, she felt anxious and a little bit scared.

Her room was decked out in many shades of pink, light and dark, bright and dim. It was the room she had had since she was a little girl. The red hobby horse, which had arrived anonymously after her father’s death along with a condolence basket for Jackie, still sat in the corner of the room. It was a child’s room, but she was no longer a child. Everything was about to change. Everything she had known, all that she had grown up with, she was now going to have to leave it all behind. She was going to the royal palace where she would have to find a man to marry, to be her husband and then she would begin her life as a married woman. Her childhood, her life here in this house was at an end, she would leave in a couple of days and would likely not return to this house until she was a married woman.

As Rose’s eyes glazed with tears she huffed and threw the coat sleeve from herself. Self-pity and being morose was going to get her nowhere she told herself. She had to pull herself together. She was now a grown woman and it was high time she started acting like it. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself and dapped at her eyes with her handkerchief to dry any moisture that had formed there. There was an awful lot to do and her bags were not going to pack themselves and Gwyneth, their housemaid who hailed from the west of Gallifrey and had a strong accent to prove it, was far too busy to even help.

But still the unsettledness remained. For so many years she had felt off, as if somewhere in her life she had taken a wrong turn, turned right instead of left. Maybe it happened when she was sixteen? Rose nearly groaned at the memory of that year. She had refused to continue her lessons with her governess, spurned Mickey, and set her cap at Jimmy Stone.

Jimmy Stone, two years her senior, tall and slim, with attractive stubble and a carriage of his own, he had seemed like the real deal. Too little too late she had realised he was an idiot, easily bored and only after a bit of skirt, and she had never got back on track. She had patched things up with Mickey, managed to complete her lessons with another governess, and with nothing else to do she began helping her mother run their estate, not that there was much to run as they were so in debt. Even though she had Mickey since then her life had gone from one monotonous day to the next; and she was left waiting, waiting for life to happen.

As her musings turned to her long-time friend and beau Baron Mickey Smith, Rose remembered that she was due to visit him the following day. Mickey was three years Rose’s senior, had come into his inheritance at eighteen and lived in an estate on Enoch Road not too far from the Tyler’s. He had been a part of her, and Jackie’s lives since his birth.

Rose’s visit to Mickey was not going to be an easy one, not with him was still being so irritated with her. The day the letter arrived was a day that had made her mother both very proud and also quite heartbroken. Upon entering the royal court Rose would be spending most of her time at the palace or any other royal estates in which the King chose to take up residence, and the one person who was decidedly not pleased by the new arrangements had been Mickey.

In going to court Rose would have to relinquish the ties and feelings she had for Mickey. Mickey had not proposed to Rose, and Rose did not have the inclination, nor courage to go against societal tradition, to propose to him herself. Even if she had the gumption, she was not sure if she wanted to propose or get married. She was very fond of Mickey, he was good looking and well-meaning, although somewhat juvenile like all young men were at that age. She cared about him, had often thought of a future with him in the fanciful way young girls do. But an impending marriage was not what she was looking for.

When she got to court Rose was to choose a suitable husband from one of the King’s courtiers, someone of suitable rank and social status. ‘Preferably,’ her mother had said, ‘someone with deep pockets.’ But the whole idea of finding someone at court and marrying them was abstract and distant. Marriage to a courtier was not imminent, not like a proposal from Mickey would be.

Once again Rose found herself wrestling with her mind, struggling to stop it wandering and to bring it back to the present. If she was going to have the time to visit Mickey, she thought, she really needed to continue sorting her clothes and packing her bags. With a heavy sigh Rose began the task, which as she had dreaded, took up the rest on the day and even made her late for dinner, much to her mother’s displeasure.

~~*~~

The next day Rose set off for Mickey’s. She was regretting her decision to wear her dark pink dress. She felt it was too child-like, but Mickey loved it and he always said it made her look so pretty. Perhaps it was her anxiety over seeing him or how he would be with her that made her so critical of the dress. She did not know but the anxiety continued, and she could not help fidgeting all the way over.

Gwyneth had begrudgingly accompanied her. With Rose leaving Gwyneth had much to organize and the normally modest and calm young woman was somewhat aggrieved about being, as she saw it, dragged away from the mountain of jobs to be done for a frivolous and unnecessary visit.

But Rose needed to see Mickey. She needed to make sure they were still on good terms; Mickey meant too much to her and she could not leave Arcadia knowing they were fighting.

When they arrived at Mickey’s they were told he was out the back in the gardens. With an easy familiarity Rose thanked the butler and made her way around the side of the building to the rear gardens with Gwyneth trailing after her. There she found Mickey in his customary brown jacket and red shirt, organising the gardeners as a conductor would an orchestra.

Rose watched him silently not wanting to disturb him just yet, a lean lad with a winning smile, bristling with energy, darting to and fro. She did care for him a great deal, loved him really.

She had often wondered if this manor would become home, one day. Rose Smith. Tyler-Smith. Maybe? Rose shook her head trying to dispel the wandering thoughts, but to no avail. What she had once thought, dreamed of, was no longer how she felt. Something strange had entered her world with the letter. Something apart from Mickey, that was different but still equalled his journey, her own adventure.

Rose felt a sense of quiet dismay as unbidden feelings of jealously surfaced. Oh, how she envied Mickey his losses and tragedies, his eventful life. What had ever happened in her life? Apart from a lost year with Jimmy Stone and some trouble with governesses, she had lived in the same run-down manor with her mother since the day she was born. She could spin a tragic tale out of her losing her father, but she had only been six when he died, and life had been an unaltering straight line since then. She would never admit it out loud, but Mickey had lived; especially compared to her.

Before her thoughts could fully run away from her one of the gardeners spotted her and bowed, alerting Mickey to her presence.

Rose quashed the darkening thoughts and compelled herself to smile at the approaching Mickey.

“Rose,” he greeted her in a rather tense manner, although he still took her outstretched hands in his.

“Mickey,” she returned with far more enthusiasm than him. Rose knew he was glad to see her but there was a stiffness in his posture that alluded to his underlying sullenness at her leaving.

“You look very pretty today. Shall we take a turn about the garden?” he asked, still reserved.

Rose agreed and they began a slow meander through the garden, always in sight of Gwyneth or one of the gardeners. The conversation was stilted, Mickey’s reserve limiting his answers to no more than three words.

Rose wondered if it was more than just her leaving him that was causing his resentment of her going to court. Mickey had declined his invitation to court in order to run his estate and in so doing had spurned the chance to make a prestigious match for himself. There were plenty of young eligible women in Arcadia, but all the best matches were made at the palace and so Mickey had lost out because of his sense of duty.

The truth of the matter was that however much he loved Rose her financial situation made her an unsuitable match. Though with no close relatives that were still living, he had much more freedom to choose his partner then most. But for the sake of his estate he needed someone with more money than Rose had to offer.

Maybe he found Rose’s leaving for court more difficult because he had no close family left alive except for Rose and Jackie.

She and Mickey had been connected long before they had from a romantic attachment with each other. Her mother and Mickey’s mother, Odessa, had been friends since childhood, and along with three others had formed a group who called themselves the Wednesday Girls, meeting up for wine and gossip almost every Wednesday night.

Young Mickey had visited Baby Rose with his parents shortly after Rose’s birth and Jackie was fond of saying that he had ‘imprinted himself’ that day.

Rose smiled sadly, thinking of everything he had been through, the daft beau of hers.

Odessa Smith had been a troubled woman and relied on the Wednesday Girls as her strength and support. ‘Poor Odessa,’ as Jackie would say, was prone to dark moods and could never really cope with money, men, or life. It had all become too much for her and one day when Mickey was five Odessa had retreated to her room and quietly slipped from life and the world.

Mickey had been left alone with his father, Jackson Moseley Smith, who had been dismayed to find himself a single parent. He had begun to work longer and longer hours, further and further away from home until business took him to the main port town of DårligUlv-Stranden where he dabbled in overseas trading. Two months at sea was followed by six months and then another, until Jackson Smith sailed away and never returned. He was never heard from again and was declared dead just before Mickey’s eighteenth birthday.

Then again it had not been all bad. After his father left Mickey’s paternal grandmother, Rita-Anne took him in. Rita-Anne had been blind for twenty years and Rose had never met a person more ferocious, shrewd or who had a better aim with a punch. She had been a firebrand, a stirrer, a rabble-rouser, and absolutely magnificent.

Grandmother and grandson had lived across town on Waterton Street in a fine redbrick town house fronted by a colonnade typical of Arcadian architecture, but they had visited the Powell estate often.

Although Mickey had promised his grandmother, he would never leave her, on his eighteenth birthday with his father declared dead and having come of inheritance age he returned to Enoch Road to run the estate.

Rose had been there the day he left, with his grandmother affectionately telling him she wanted him gone, Mickey had hugged her in gratitude for all she had done and climbed into a carriage to his new life. Even Rose had gotten a hug from Rita-Anne and a whispered message to look after Mickey. Tragically, two months later Rita-Anne tripped on some loose stair carpet and broke her neck. Three hundred people came to her funeral and Waterton Street was sealed off for a party which celebrated Rita-Anne until the sun rose the following morning.

Rose’s reminiscences were halted as the young couple were stopped on their continued circuits of the garden sometime later by Gwyneth.

“Excuse the interruption, milord,” she bowed to Mickey. “Milady, we must be going soon. There is still much to organize before your departure for court.”

With a small sigh Rose said, “Thank you, Gwyneth. I’ll be along shortly.” And with a meaningful look Rose turned back to Mickey who was fixated at something on the ground and was stubbing the grass with his boot.

“Do you really have to leave?” he grumbled after Gwyneth had moved away.

“You know I have to,” Rose placated.

“Promise you will not forget me?” he asked looking up from the ground.

“Mickey,” Rose said with slight exasperation.

“Promise me,” he insisted.

“Alright, alright. I promise.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when a grin broke out on Mickey’s face. His natural good humour restored by the one thing had always made him happy. Rose Tyler. He had never told Rose, but she was the only girl he had ever loved and the first girl he had ever gone further than a kiss with. The promise of her love was all he needed or wanted.

A distance voice called, “Milady!”

“I have to go.”

“Stay,” he urged, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

“I cannot, you know I cannot.”

Mickey pouted.

“You will come see me off tomorrow, will you not?” Rose asked.

He nodded, “Of course.”

“Good. Now I really must be going.”

With one last chaste kiss goodbye Rose turned to leave. She loved Mickey, but that seemed a very small thing right now. She thought of the people who had abandoned him, the people he had lost over the years and how she was becoming just one more person to leave him. She was sorry about it, but his losses were his, they were his story.

And this is my story now, Rose thought, and the only person who can tell it is me.

***


	2. Day of Departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes:  
> Latin: Nine = Novem,  
> Eight = Octo,  
> Dominus = Master,  
> Tempus = Time

The day of Rose’s departure dawned bright and clear; the first hint of Spring carried on the air.

Gwyneth woke Rose early before the sun had fully risen. Both were quiet, the anticipation and apprehension for the day ahead held them silent.

Rose lay still for some time after Gwyneth had left before finally pulling herself up from the bed with a whispered, “Today is the day,” to the empty room.

When she had washed, she called Gwyneth who helped her dress and fixed her hair with careful movements.

Rose hardly noticed, absorbed in thoughts of the day ahead. That this would be her last day at home. What would the capital, the palace be like? How she would fare on her own for the first time? She looked at her reflection in the mirror, a scoop of dirty blonde hair around her face. Eye’s like her father’s, nose like her mother’s. Would someone as ordinary as her be accepted in court? Find friends? Find a husband?

With a shake of her head to banish the thoughts she thanked Gwyneth and made her way downstairs to the breakfast parlour where a large spread of food welcomed her. Rose gave a small smile, Cook had outdone herself, pulling together all of Rose’s favourite breakfast dishes for her last morning at home.

She looked to her mother’s seat and saw that she had already eaten and left, so Rose sat down to eat alone. After a moment’s hesitation trying to decide whether she was hungry or not, Rose reached for the sweet fruits. She had a long journey ahead of her and it could be quite late in the day before she next got the chance to eat so she had best eat up now.

As she ate her eyes wandered around the quiet room and quickly landed on the portraits of the former King Octo and Queen Grace, as well as the one of King Novem.

Apparently, Rose had visited court a handful of times as a small child when her mother and father had brought her. She had no memory of the visits save for a couple of hazy recollections and impressions. The trips were meant to be in part educational and informative excursions for Rose, to see and learn of court, its happenings, rules and etiquette. But they had fallen short of their goal when they had been cut short, as well as in Rose’s inability to recall the visits in any great detail. For her parents, these trips had been a chance to meet old acquaintances, reforge friendships and make tentative plans for Roses’ marriage. Alas, many of these plans had also fallen through when her father had died.

Rose supposed she must have caught glimpses of the royal family on at least one of these trips, but she could not remember. The stories said that King Octo had been a handsome yet tough and war hardened man, who had fought hard to retain the crown. His early years had been turbulent ones as his uncle and the current King’s granduncle, Duke Dominus, had believed the throne to be rightfully his and not his nephew’s. The Queen had been a beautiful and graceful woman with an air of sophistication and a sharp mind. Even though the previous King and Queen had an arranged marriage and had married young, they had stayed strong and worked together through the rebellions and uprisings of the early years of their reign.

The former King and Queen had had only one child, a son, who was the current King, King Novem. There had never been a chance for another child as nearly fifteen years ago, a plague had swept through the kingdom. There had been many casualties including the then King and Queen, as well as by extension Rose’s father who had been run down by a couch driver sick with plague who had lost control of his carriage.

It was said that King Novem took after his father in looks but he had his mother’s sophistication and sharp mind, as well as her high cheekbones or at least that is what Rose’s mother’s friends had said. He too had faced some descension when he ascended to the throne, rebels taking advantage of his young age, but he had worked to crush the rebels with brutal and ferocious force. Rose had remembered seeing glimpses of portraits of the then Prince Novem when she was young. Even though it had only been a painting she had been captivated by him and his blue eyes; he had exuded raw power and control even as a young man.

After the six-month period of mourning Prince Novem had had his coronation and been crowned King. On his coronation King Novem had been regarded as the jewel of Gallifrey by most of the court and kingdom. He had been a young, handsome, vivacious and a learned man when he took the throne. He was at the glittering centre of a magnificent kingdom attended by thousands of people, staff, and courtiers alike.

Fifteen years on, gossip from the court continued to revolve around how much of an attractive and charismatic man King Novem was in his prime. How educated and accomplished he was. How he ruled with absolute power and desired to provide his kingdom with an heir, preferably a male heir. While old King Octo had to consolidate the Medicus Dynasty and created a fragile peace that existed following the Tempus War; King Novem took a country salvaged by his parents from the wreak of civil war and set over it a single, sovereign, ruler.

Rose was pulled from her musings of the royal family by the sound of someone at the front door. Abandoning the ends of her breakfast she wandered out to the foyer to find Mr Sneed letting Mickey in.

“Mickey!” Rose called happily running to meet him. “What are you doing here?”

“I have come to see you off,” Mickey replied with a handsome smile, taking Rose’s arm, and leading her into the parlour.

Confused and a little dejected Rose said, “But, I thought you would see me off at the couch station.”

Closing the door with a quick snap, Mickey turned to Rose with cheeky grin.

“I was going to but,” Mickey wrapped his arms around Rose’s waist pulling her close, “We would have no privacy at the station.”

Finally catching on Rose laughed, “Oh Mickey, you cheeky sod!” before leaning in to kiss him.

This was far better than saying goodbye at the station, she thought, as they made their way clumsily and still kissing over to the couch.

They did not have long before there was a loud knock at the door, and they had to hurriedly break apart.

Mickey scrabbled to move an appropriate distance from Rose and nearly tripped over the small table in the centre of the room.

Rose did her best to hide her giggle at the sight of Mickey’s flailing limbs. “Are you alright?” she asked, hastily fixing her dress, and flattening out any wrinkles.

“Fine, fine,” Mickey muttered as he attempted to look composed.

Gwyneth entered the room bearing a tray of refreshments and announced with a pointed look that, “The Mistress will be down in a moment to take tea with you.”

Rose sighed loudly; this was her mother interfering again. Why could her mother not let Mickey and her have time alone?

If her mother was not around then Gwyneth often acted as chaperone, but Gwyneth was often good enough to give the young couple some space and, like earlier, she would blatantly announced her entrance into a room, giving the couple enough time to appear proper.

Her mother had not been this bad before. But since the arrival of the palace’s letter Jackie had become overprotective and overbearing when it came to Rose and any hint of impropriety.

All-out war nearly erupted between mother and daughter over Rose’s travel arrangements to the palace.

Rose wanted to travel to the capital by herself. She saw no reason why it was so necessary for one of the staff to accompany her to Gallifrey City. Her mother on the other hand had nearly lost her reason at the thought of her daughter travelling by coach to the capital on her own with no chaperone. When Rose had brought up the subject of travelling alone her mother had proceeded to give her a full lecture on proper conduct and etiquette.

“Rose for goodness sake, you know perfectly well there are rules of conduct every self-respecting woman must adhere to! A single woman never walks out alone, and a respectable woman certainly never rides alone in closed carriages with strange men who are not related to her!”

Rose loved her mother, she really did, but she resented that Jackie was so old fashioned. Rose argued that she would not be the only one travelling to the capital, there would be other young women travelling too, especially at this time of year.

“In any case,” she had reasoned, “It is not like we can afford to board both myself and Gwyneth for the journey. And how are you going to manage the estate without Gwyneth around? There is going to an increased workload with me gone anyway, never mind sending Gwyneth off too!”

“But-” her mother had interjected.

Rose saw how her mother worried for her and pulled her in for hug. “I promise I will be safe. I won’t endanger myself or my reputation. Promise.”

The tension had slowly left her mother’s shoulders Rose knew she had relented.

“There really is nothing we can do, is there?”

Rose shook her head, “I will be fine, mum.”

“Very well. I trust you, Rose.”

With that decision made the rest of the organizing and packing went rather smoothly. However, Rose was strictly accompanied every time she left the estate. And now it would seem she was being monitored even on her last day in the manor.

Jackie entered the room in a whirlwind of energy and took over the conversation.

“Oh Mickey, how lovely to see you. Have you come to bid farewell to our dear Rose?”

“Yes, I -”

“It is wonderful news, is it not? We all have high hopes for Rose.”

Rose quickly looked away from Mickey a faint blush of embarrassment on her cheeks. She knew her mother did not really mean it, but the comment was rather pointed.

Her mother began to wax lyrical about Rose’s journey to the palace and what her life in court would be like and soon the conversation moved to Jackie’s time at court.

Mickey for his part remained polite and cordial the entire time, making the right noises at the right time and asking just enough to keep Jackie talking.

Rose on the other hand stayed quiet. She was disheartened by how her mother, while not consciously, seemed to be pushing Mickey away from Rose. Up until recently Jackie would have been quite content to have Mickey as a son-in-law but now that there was the chance for Rose to have a much more advantageous marriage Jackie seemed to dismiss Mickey as a possible suitor for Rose.

The chime of the clock above the mantlepiece announcing the hour came as a surprise to all three occupants who had not noticed time slipping by, although Rose was grateful that the conversion could end.

“Oh Goddess, look at the time,” Jackie said. “Now Mickey, I do not wish to be rude but there is still much to organise, and Rose will need to leave soon.”

Mickey jumped from his seat, “Yes, of course. My apologises.”

Jackie headed towards the door, “I will leave you two to say goodbye. But mind you do not dawdle.”

“Yes, mother.”

Rose waited to make sure her mother had gone before scrambling to her feet and throwing her arms around Mickey, a sudden wave of anxiety and disquiet overwhelming her.

Mickey returned her hug and squeezed her tight, kissing the top of her head. “You won’t forget me, will you Rose?”

“No, of course not!” Rose exclaimed leaning in to kiss him fervently.

With heavy hearts they pulled away from each other and made their way hand in hand to the front door, the servants conspicuously absent.

Rose hugged Mickey again as he whispered in her ear, “I will see you at the station,” and with one last kiss he turned and left.

Having seen Mickey off Rose went to thank the household staff who had been chivvied into the parlour by Mr. Sneed. It was a teary and somewhat awkward affair, but Rose was glad she did it. Gwyneth teared up a little, Cook went on a small jabbering ramble about Rose as a little girl and all her favourite foods, the young footman who doubled as a gardener blushed and stammered his thanks before dashing away, and Mr. Sneed was his usual gruff and brusque self.

After the servants had departed Rose made a quick stop to the alter and made a small offering to the Gods and Goddesses for a safe trip, before going to get her bags.

With her bags packed and deposited at the front door to be loaded onto their carriage, Rose had one more matter to attend to before they left.

She entered the study quietly with an air of sadness and gazed about the familiar room before making her way over to the portrait behind the desk. She stood before the painting of her father, looking up at the face she cherished, desperately trying to take in every detail of his face. The laugh lines at the corner of his eyes, the shape of his face, the colour of his eyes, his receding hair line.

She could barely remember him from her childhood. Now she was leaving with no idea when, or even if, she would ever return to this house. She supposed when she was married, she could get a small pocket replica made of it so she could keep her father with her.

"Rose," the impatient voice of her mother echoed from the hall.

Her gaze flickered to the door, but she did not answer. Just a few more seconds. She just wanted a little bit more time.

"Rose!" the call came again, this time with a harder edge as irritation set in.

She sighed knowing that her time was up. She looked once more at her father's face and smiled sadly as she said, "Goodbye, papa."

With a somewhat dejected aura she left the room for the last time.

“I’m here, mum.”

“Oh good, there you are,” Jackie muttered distractedly, watching the last of the bags being taken out. “We have to hurry, or you will miss the coach.”

“I know, I know,” Rose countered to her mother’s insistent chivvying.

With one final look around her childhood home Rose stepped through the front door, out into her new life, into her new adventure.

***


	3. Journey to the Palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lilyandtherose has created a wonderful and amazing trailer for the story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ka9NRnndI5g
> 
> Chapter notes:  
> Latin: Nine = Novem

The coach trundled along Arcadia’s streets towards the central coach house. Inside, Rose and her mother sat opposite Gwyneth.

Rose found herself, stomach churning in nervousness, looking out the small carriage window at the passing city. 

Set in the south of the kingdom, Arcadia had hot climate, with blistering summers and mild winters, and the city’s architecture was constructed to offset the heat. The main city streets, wide enough for three carriages to easily pass each other were bordered by porticos to shade the city inhabitants from the sweltering summer sun and the winter rains. Shops of all kinds, boasting the newest wares from the capital, resided on the ground floors. The upper floors acting as storerooms and residences for the shop owners, staff, and lower income city inhabitants.

The porticos changed to leafy tree lined streets in the suburbs, the wealthier areas never far from a lush park with lake or river to shelter in the summer. The poorer areas of the city had many cramped buildings so tightly packed together with narrow streets that sunlight rarely reach in, but this also meant that a cool breeze was also often lost.

Arcadia contrasted greatly with Gallifrey city which was set in the north of the kingdom with a very different climate of cooler summers and bitter winters with snow and cold winds coming down off the mountains adding to the chill.

Rose had never seen snow in person; she was excited to finally get the chance to see it but worried over whether she had enough clothes. She had had to buy layered under skirts and a warm coat for the winters. Her gloves were an old yet stylish pair of her mothers, her scarves too inherited from her mother.

It would take four days to reach the Capital by coach and Rose would be travelling there by Lazarus coach.

The Lazarus coaches were the latest and greatest of the modern age inventions. They were created by and named after a man called Richard Lazarus. Through his revolutionary thinking and invention, he had created a double length coach. The normal and standard old coaches could only comfortably carry six people, but the new Lazarus coaches could easily carry up to sixteen people. The carriages had six wheels as opposed to the normal four and were wider too. The second set of wheels lay under the seats rows two and three giving the carriage critical stability of its weakest point.

Seating wise, the Lazarus coaches had the normal two rows of seating the first which faced backwards and the second which faced forwards. The third row of seats were backed onto and attached to the second row of seats and also faced backwards like the first row. The fourth row of seats mirrored the second row and faced forwards.

As these carriages were still relatively new, their design remained functional and had not yet been refined and optimised, so they were still rather large and bulky in design. But very few cared over such a trivial matter as their creation had greatly increased and enhanced the rate and number of passengers travelling, as well as the amounts of goods and trade that occurred, right across the kingdom.

Given their more cumbersome design than ordinary carriages, Lazarus’s were difficult to manoeuvre particularly around corners and bends. They were also quite expensive to build and buy so they were mainly sold as passenger coaches for both internal and external kingdom routes and many of the larger and more successful merchants, traders and craftsmen bought them for trade. Some smaller towns and villages had collectively bought one so that the whole community could benefit from it without any one person being forced to bear the entire cost and expense.

The carriage that Rose was going on was one of the busiest and most used routes in the kingdom – the Arcadia to Gallifrey city coach.

The Tyler’s carriage at last rounded the corner onto the wide boulevard which held the central coach house. The thoroughfare was heaving with people, carriages, and carts all jostling and vying for space.

When the carriage stopped Gwyneth descended first and set about trying to find a porter. Rose and her mother cautiously left the carriage joining the teeming street and did their best not to be buffeted by the crowds around them.

At last Gwyneth returned practically shouting at the porter to be heard over the din. The porter appeared unperturbed by Gwyneth’s shouting and set about unloading the bags onto his trolley.

“Your coach leaves from Platform One, milady,” Gwyneth told them.

They managed to make their way, with some difficulty, through the crowd to the Platform. When they arrived, the coach was still going through its final checks and Rose took the opportunity to look for Mickey.

Standing on her tiptoes, Rose strained to see through the crowd. She knew Mickey was there somewhere. There! A brief break in the crowd gave her a glimpse of him. She called out to him, but her voice was lost in the cacophony, so she once again battled her way through the crowd to him.

He hugged her tight when he saw her and taking his hand, she gestured for him to follow her.

They made their way over to Jackie who told them that the bags had been loaded and Gwyneth had returned to the carriage for the return journey.

No sooner had Jackie finished speaking when a steward began calling out “Arcadia to Gallifrey city now boarding. That’s Arcadia to Gallifrey city now boarding,” in a booming voice.

“It is time,” Rose muttered to herself as her heart starting to beat a little faster.

Jackie pulled her into a big hug her eyes filled with tears, “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. You know I love you so much.”

“Love you too. Bye, mum,” she said, trying not to cry herself.

Rose turned to Mickey and wrapped her arms around him.

“I will miss you,” he whispered into her ear.

“I will miss you too,” she said and clung to him even tighter.

Her mother stood to their left discreetly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

At last the couple broke apart and with one last emotional hug and kiss on the cheek to her mother Rose turned to board the coach showing the steward her ticket which had been included with the royal letter. She paused in the doorway and turned to give a tearful smile and small wave to them before entering the coach.

Rose chose the back row of seats which thankfully had only one other occupant, an elderly lady, and settled herself in for the long and tedious journey ahead.

They waited several minutes for the rest of the passengers to board and soon the coach lurched into motion.

Glancing out the small back window Rose watched as the many tall city buildings turned to wide open streets with large manors surrounded by high walls and her thoughts wandered.

Rose had only her fleeting childhood memories of the palace and other people’s tales to picture the city. She sat back in her seat, closed her eyes, and tried to visualize an image of the city and its grand palace. As she did so the words and voices from an older couple a few seats away drifted over to her. They too had the city and palace on their minds and were discussing its magnificence and beauty.

Gently swaying in time with the movement of the carriage, a steady breeze drifting across her face from the partial open window Rose’s mind conjured up the vivid images.

Tardis palace was the main residence of the monarch in Gallifrey and where King Novem spent most of his time. The palace and city were set out on a hill within a large flat valley plain that was bordered with mountains many miles away, giving the castle paramount views of the surrounding area. The city itself spread out from the castle extending down the hill and out into the valley. The encircling mountains were covered in thick forests that reached into the valley plane. Trees surrounded the valley like great armies defending their citadel, their armoured trunks stretching out in the air protectively along the mountain sides. The wilderness outside the city contained vast mountain ranges capped with snow shining white in the sunlight, with deep red grass fields, with its silver and green leafed trees looking like a forest on fire in the morning sunrise all of which casted an amber tint on the city.

The city had great outer curtain walls some fifty feet high and ten feet deep. These walls were foreboding and ominous, presenting a glaring defence of the city and denizens within, with guards silently walking the walls keeping watch. According to the older couple the city was not without further defences and many impressive war machines including trebuchets, battering rams, catapults, and siege towers which stood proudly silent and waiting, ready to unleash their fury and defend their city. The circular watch towers on the outer walls had spiralling staircases, making it more awkward for invaders to fight upwards, and uneven steps gave the defenders an added advantage.

The city wall had four gates, one at each of the four points of the compass - north, south, east, and west. The city lay in the northern region of the kingdom and the main gate used by those entering was the southern gate. The city was fed by the many freshwater streams from the surrounding mountains which combined into a well sized river, the Tempus river, that flowed down through the valley. The water from this river created fertile and bountiful soil in the valley which in turn provided productive farms and generous yields.

Rose would have happily continued daydreaming, but the carriage had pulled in to make small stop at some nondescript inn on the outskirts of a small town for food. The passengers descended from the carriage and those that were continuing the journey grabbed a quick bite to eat in the inn before new passengers joined them and the carriage set off once more.

The sun was setting before the coach reached the overnight inn and they stopped after the first day of travelling. Rose clambered out of the carriage her head starting to ache and her stomach churning. It had been many years since she had last spent any significant amount of time in a carriage and her body was just not use to the prolonged and constant swaying and motion of the journey.

The inn was perched on the side of a gently sloping hill just outside the bustle of the town. Timbered, thatched, and rustic, the inn and outbuildings were surrounded by well-maintained gardens and enclosed by a low stone wall. A swaying sign above the door proclaimed the inn as The Wolf and Storm with a picture of a howling wolf and lightning bolt behind it.

Warm kitchen smells welcomed Rose and the other travellers when they entered.

Rose gazed around her as the porter lead the group into the inn. There were stairs leading upwards directly in front as they entered and to the left of the stairs was the bar with stools and some small tables and chairs in front of it. The whole room was warmed by the fire in the right-hand side of the room. This side had longer tables, big enough to accommodate large groups of travellers. The room was full enough but not so full that the arrival of Rose and the other travellers would take up all the remaining seats.

After some moments of organizing the landlady had assigned them rooms and Rose was led up a narrow staircase to her room by a maid followed by a stable boy carrying her bags.

“I’ll call you when dinner is ready, milady,” the maid said before she left.

“Thank you,” Rose called.

It did not take long to investigate the room, it was sparsely decorated with a bed, chest of drawers, table and two chairs, and a small and very basic bathroom to the side.

Rose walked about the room several times to stretch her legs before deciding to get changed. After slipping out of her travelling dress and lay out a fresh gown on the bed. She splashed some water from the basin on to her face and slipped into the new gown, giving thanks that she did need a maid’s help, and used the brush to arrange her hair as best she could.

Within moments of finishing there was a discreet knock upon the door.

“Come in,” Rose called. It was the maid from earlier.

“Dinner is ready, milady.”

Rose thanked her and followed her downstairs to the dining room which was quickly filling up with patrons. Rose took a seat two tables away from the fire, she could still feel warm air drifting over without risk of getting too hot.

A server approached her table and Rose made her order.

While waiting for her food, Rose took the opportunity to get a better look at the other guests. There were mainly wealthier merchants and traders. She noticed a couple of lower peers like herself, but no one of higher rank, they would be few and far between in an inn such as this. There was a more salubrious inn nearby that anyone with funds would have gone to. Then again, she thought, anyone with funds would have had their own carriage to take them, so anyone in her carriage would not be someone very deep pockets.

Dinner arrived and interrupted her musings. The meal was nothing to write home about, but it was adequate, nonetheless.

After dinner she went out to the gardens for some air and to stretch her legs before making her way back to her room and to bed.

Sleep claimed her quickly that night as the energy that had kept her going throughout the day was gone and her head had only just hit the pillow before she drifted off.

~~*~~

The morning of the second day dawned far too quickly for Rose’s liking and she grumbled a reluctant thanks to the maid who woke her.

She packed her things and had her bags by the bedroom door ready to be taken down to the carriage, before heading down to breakfast.

The morning carriage ride was uneventful, and Rose spent much of her time looking out the window watching the towns and countryside go by.

It was after the midday stop that things took a turn. When the passengers changed a young woman, one age to Rose, climbed on board and made her way to Rose’s row of seats.

“Sorry, excuse me? Is this seat taken?”

Rose looked up at the voice that had spoken to her. It was a pretty, young woman, with dark skin and black hair, who had spoken.

“No, no it is free.”

“Oh good,” the young woman smiled happily and sat down beside Rose. “I had been quite worried that I would not have anyone,” she paused, “respectable to sit next to on the journey.”

“Where are you headed to?” Rose asked after a short pause.

“To the capital.”

“To the Debutante Ball?”

“Yes! Are you going also?”

Rose nodded her confirmation. “At least we will know each other when we get there. Unless?”

“Oh, I do not know anyone either”

“I suppose if we are to get to know each other any better we must introduce ourselves. I am Countess Martha Jones.”

Rose blushed at her faux pas of not introducing herself sooner. “It is very nice to meet you Lady Jones. My name is Baroness Rosabel Tyler.”

“Call me Martha, Lady Jones is my mother.”

Rose smiled, she and Martha were going to get on very well.

The two young women chatted contentedly for the rest of the day’s journey, at times lapsing into brief periods of silence.

~~*~~

Over the third day the two young women again sat next to each other and continued to converse and became more acquainted. 

A young woman was usually under her mother’s wing for the first year of her social life at court. However, in Rose’s case with her father dead, her mother was required to remain at home and run the family estate, so Rose was on her own. Martha was also on her own as her mother was ill and unable to leave home. The shared situation helped to bolster their budding friendship.

They also talked about the palace and court life. Rose was delighted to learn that Martha, despite her higher peerage was level-headed and down to earth. She had a thirst for adventure, similar to Rose herself, and was just as unconcerned with the frivolities of etiquette and decorum. It was such a boon for Rose to find someone who could be her friend, really be her friend, at court.

The elegant and polished royal palace was not just the seat of royalty it was all so a battlefield. Within the Great Hall of the palace, which was routinely crammed full of courtiers, lay the heart of the royal palace. It was a world of underhanded and unscrupulous activity, where Lady’s fans whistled open like flick-knives and intrigue twisted through the crowd.

Rose knew it was vital that both herself and Martha learn the rules of the game, the nuances of court etiquette and know how to use them to their own advantage. To be a successful courtier one had to have a level head and a cold heart. Rose had half of one and none of the other, but with a friend such as Martha she might just be alright.

Court life would certainly be a big change for both of them. The Kings and Queens of Gallifrey lived surrounded by many members of the nobility. The courtiers were obliged to frequent the royal residences regularly and in return attracted and curried favours of the monarch. In return for their constant availability, courtiers were compensated with pensions and financial indulgences, living quarters in the palace and invitations to festivals and ceremonies.

The spacious quarters at the royal palace allowed a large court to live in residence close to the King. Depending on the time or circumstances hundreds or thousands of people crowded there, forming a varied society with a rigid hierarchy. Some were there by birth right, others by social obligation, others out of self-interest or curiosity and others still to earn their living.

Martha shared her worry of the many unwritten rules of court, the gestures and language that held a double meaning; the rules that governed priority, determining who was allowed to approach the important people in the court, as well as where and when.

Those like Rose and Martha who wished to be introduced and have the chance to speak to the King were not able to just knock on his door or approach him at gatherings; they had to gain permission to be presented.

“If we are lucky, one of the court peers will introduce us to the King,” Martha said in a hushed tone.

Rose nodded, “Oh, if we could find someone willing to do it.”

“Just imagine meeting the King. How amazing that would be,” Martha whispered, her eyes alight.

Indeed it would be, Rose thought. Martha’s words echoing in her mind. Imagine meeting the King. That in and of itself would be a boon for someone like her. Someone of her standing rarely got such chances to meet the King and had even less of a chance of becoming established at court.

Those closest to the King, who held a role, were those who were ‘established’ at court. These roles, either inherited or purchased, needed the King’s approval and they were often the ones who would receive the best of the highly sought after living quarters in the palace or city which alleviated much travelling back and forth from court to home.

Dazzling finery was a sure way to attract the Monarch’s attention which Rose sorely lacked but there were also personal attributes, such as beauty or wit, which afforded one a chance to be noticed. Without Martha’s friendship and higher standing Rose doubted she could ever possibly be noticed by anyone at court never mind the King himself.

~~*~~

The closer they got to the capital the more decadent the inns became.

Their final overnight stay was in the Dancing Doctor inn. It was a large four-story building and from the front the flicker of candlelight in some of the upper windows and the bright glow of a fire in the ground floor windows could be seen.

Even though it was spring, they had journeyed far enough north that on clear nights like the current one a fire as required.

A per the norm, a couple of stable boys appeared to unload the luggage and the group was ushered towards the inn.

A maid came up to Rose and Martha, “Milady, I’ll escort you in, get you settled with some food and sort out a room and bring up yer things.”

“Thank you,” Martha replied, and they followed the maid in.

The evening passed without consequence and the pair decided to head to bed early ahead of the final day of traveling.

Before going to sleep Rose laid out one of her better dresses for the next day. They were so close to the palace now and she wanted to look her best, to give her best impression to anyone that they might meet.

~~*~~

The final day of traveling dawned with an air of excitement.

Rose and Martha claimed their usual seats at the back of the couch and were soon joined by a young family across the way.

When the carriage lurched into motion the young boy asked excitedly for his parents to describe the castle. The father began and he conjured up a vivid and exciting tale.

Tardis palace was built with a panorama of the surrounding land. From the towers stood watchers, quiver and arrow ready to fly. Steadfast walls were built for defence in a long-ago age that was characterized by jealousy, greed, and the love of power as much as honour, nobility, and loyalty to the crown.

Rose smiled to Martha; she really liked that description.

This castle stood to inspire awe in the realm. The palace complex was of two minds; being first surrounded by its own defensive curtain wall, thirty feet high and six feet deep while the palace itself was clad in ornate and decadent deep blue marble for which Gallifrey was famous for. The blue marble shone bright in the sunlight giving off a sight of majesty and wonderment. The castle had many tall towers and turrets; the highest of which were connected by four open air suspension bridges.

The palace gardens were reportedly the most magnificent in the land, or at least that is what the boy’s father said. These magnificent gardens had greenhouses for growing all manner of foods and medicine herbs, formal structured gardens with exotic plants and flowers to amble through, two mazes with ten foot high hedging, a wild meadow, a small wooded area including a section with beautiful trees bearing a variety of fruits, water features, a small manmade lake containing many fish of different kinds and countless secret and hidden areas to find and wander through.

There was also all manner of beautiful creatures housed within the palace grounds from exotic birds in the great aviary to fallow deer in the valley plains. The palace parks were covered with abundant grass; and the paths through them were all paved and raised so that they never became muddy, nor would the rain lodge on them, it would flow off into the gutters to be collected in wells and water cisterns to be used for drinking or in the meadows to irrigate the soil where needed.

The father’s tales entertain the young women for most of the journey and it was late in the afternoon before the children grew tired and he stopped his fantastical tale. The loss of free entertainment was not an issue as with every minute that passed, they grew closer to Gallifrey city.

Rose found herself almost restless with anticipation. Martha who had visited the city much more than Rose was not as excited. But Rose’s eagerness was infectious, and they found themselves looking out the windows on both sides of the carriage eagerly awaiting their first glimpse of the city.

The coach continued is trundle up the Southern road and as it turned a corner Martha breathed, “There it is.”

There it was indeed, for as Rose leaned over to the window, she saw the great city and castle which dominated the skyline, flanked by mountain ranges. It was all she could do not to gasp. The great expanse of silver and green from the forests enhanced the castle’s beauty and the wall’s eerie brutality and was reflected in the palace’s many towers and turrets that took root and grew like trees against the skyline.

It was so much more magnificent than the stories she had heard both previously and on the journey. She took in the grandeur of the glittering blue marble and weather-beaten stone walls, a city alive with people and activity; through the open window she felt the crisp wind blowing down from the mountains carrying the scent of the mountain trees and the hearth fires lit throughout the city. It whispered to her telling her tales of the peoples within and around the city. It was a tale she was about to have a part in.

They passed many farms with outbuildings scattered throughout the fields on the way up the Southern road. And with each turn of the carriage wheels the city grew closer and more imposing, taking over the entire skyline.

The coach was stopped for a time at the Southern gate as the city guards made all the relevant checks and the fees were handed over.

Soon they were once more on their way, meandering slowly through the still busy city streets. No spot within the city wall remained void except where there was traffic of people going and coming.

The carriage paused several times along its journey up to the castle, each time one or two passengers departed until only Rose, Martha and another young gentleman and lady remained.

Rose tried to take in the city but there was so much to see and hear that her mind could not keep up. The only thing she took from her journey was that in the light of the setting sun reflecting of the buildings and people the city looked magical.

There was one more check at the palace walls before they were let into the inner sanctum of the palace grounds and they soon arrived at their destination.

They were just one of many carriages arriving.

Rose climbed gingerly out of the carriage, stiff from sitting for so long and stretched a little to get the blood flowing again, especially to her legs. As she stretched, she gazed up at the castle before her. From cloistered rooms within those walls’ lives were spared or taken, lands given or stripped away, and fortunes secured or ruined. She was so taken by the castle that she hardly saw the courtyard around her.

A small army of footmen appeared and began unloading the baggage. As carriages were emptied more pulled up and soon a large group of young noblemen and women were gathering in the courtyard.

Rose was grateful that she had chosen a nice dress to wear because looking about her at all the other courtiers she felt distinctly underdressed and unpolished compared to those around her. She tried not to let it get to her, but she could not help but feel inadequate and insignificant. Martha did not seem to mind though, which was at least something.

The group as a whole was ushered by stern looking staff towards the large oak double doors that were the palace’s entrance.

Rose walked through the intricately carved doors that had been painted an imposing black and looked about the extensive entrance hall. She took in the splendid marble floors where each tile had been chosen with the utmost care and saw many beautiful paintings decorating the walls around the room. There was a set of double staircases, one on the left and one on the right that stretched up to the first floor. The railing of the staircases was exquisitely engraved with flowers and vines, each one different.

Rose suddenly felt very small and unimportant in the presence of all the wealth and splendour. Her modest upbringing had not prepared her for all of this. And this was just the entrance hall, the rest of the palace which stretched far would be equally as impressive. Somewhere in the western side of the castle there was a grand wooden door that led to a very large library. The stable with its many horses and servants’ quarters were on the eastern side of the palace. The walls of the palace above and around her were decorated and adorned in rich tapestries of vibrant rich colours, of emerald green, ruby red, sapphire blue, silver, and gold. Suits of armour stood along the corridors and various coats of arms and crossed swords festooned the walls.

Rose was saved from her errand thoughts by the arrival of a handful of servants who would show them to their respective rooms. The group would have but a little time to settle in before a light supper was brought to their rooms. Tomorrow they would have their orientation tour of the palace and its gardens.

They were led up a dizzying number of stairs and corridors before they split up with a footman leading the young gentleman off to the left, and a maid leading Rose, Martha, and the other young ladies to the right. They passed down a several more corridors and up another flight of stairs before they reached the sleeping quarters and the maid directed each of them to their rooms.

Rose’s room was the last on the corridor. The room was actually a small suite of rooms with a petite but comfortable sitting room with a door leading to the bedroom and washroom beyond.

Rose removed her gloves, placed them on the boudoir in the bedroom before continuing her examination of the suite. The suit’s colour scheme was a light blue and gold one. The windows were large letting plenty of light and overlooked a small private garden far below with its own moderate sized water feature that showered water gracefully back to where it started.

Rose had barely settled herself in the rooms before there was a knock at the door and a maid came in, followed by a footman bringing in her trucks.

The footman inquired as to what food she would like to eat. Rose felt that a bowl of soup and some bread would be light enough so as to not upset her stomach after the long day of travelling and the late hour. The footman bowed and left to get the food. Meanwhile the maid had begun to unpack Rose’s trucks, hanging up her dresses and coats, folding away her scarves and gloves. As Rose watched her, she only then noticed that the maid had bright blue hair which was not native to Gallifrey. She was also struggling with one of the larger winter coats.

“Do you want help with those?” Rose questioned. It was a silly question. Ladies did not help maids with the work, but Rose was so used to helping Gwyneth at home that it felt strange just to stand by and watch.

The maid paused in the middle of taking out a blue dress from the trunk and turned towards Rose. She looked surprise at Rose’s offer but said nothing. She stared at Rose expectantly and Rose stared back uncertain of what to do.

Had the maid been offended? Was there some palace custom unknown to her that she had gone against?

The maid, taking pity of Rose’s growing discomfort finally spoke, “You have to give me permission to talk, milady.”

“Oh, right. Ehem, you have permission to speak,” Rose said awkwardly.

“Thank you, milady. And no, you're alright. I’ll manage.” After a brief pause, she added with a small smile, “It was kind of you to offer, milady.”

“Your welcome,” Rose replied.

The maid managed to hang the coat and started arranging the shoes.

“What is your name?” Rose inquired, “If you do not mind me asking.”

“Not at all, milady. I’m Raffalo,” she replied and continued to work but seemed quite happy to answer Rose’s questions.

“Raffalo?”

“Yes, milady.”

“Are you assigned to a new courtier every year?”

“No, milady. I’m assigned to you and will stay with you ‘til I’m no longer needed, or I’m dismissed.”

“So, you are my maid?” Rose asked sitting down at the edge of the bed.

“Yes, milady. His Majesty believes it’s more beneficial and practical to have staff trained here at the palace and then be ready to work straight away.”

That did make sense, Rose thought. Staff would be familiar with the palace and its workings and would require no extra training. Also, courtiers would be waited on by staff loyal to the palace and they would be much more difficult to convert and turn them against the King. Very clever of the King indeed.

“Where are you from?”

“Crespallion.”

Rose’s brow furrowed; she had not heard of that Kingdom, “Where is that?”

“Crespallion's a very small independent Kingdom. It forms part of the Jaggit Brocade a collection of small Kingdoms in the area who all trade together. The Jaggit Brocade forms part of the Scarlet Crossroads trade route. And where are you from, milady? If you don't mind me asking.”

“No, not at all. I am from Arcadia. Not as far as you but it feels like such a long way away right now.” Rose lapsed into a moment of silence, thinking of home. Coming out of her reverie she said, “You have plenty of work to do so please, do not let me keep you.”

“Thank you, milady. And thank you for the permission and questions. Not many people are that considerate or interested.”

Rose nodded and made her way out to the sitting room. She was not there long before there was another knock on the door. Rose called, “Enter,” and in came the footman from earlier bringing in Rose’s dinner. He laid it out in the sitting room and with a final, “If that is everything, milady?” to which Rose answered, “Yes, thank you,” he left.

Raffalo continued to put away the clothes and busied herself around the place lighting extra candles and turning down the bed as Rose ate her dinner. Raffalo was still keeping herself busy by the time Rose had finished eating. By now tiredness had descended upon Rose and she began to crave solitude. And quickly decided it would be best if she dismissed Raffalo for the night.

“Raffalo, I think that will be all for tonight. You can head off for the night.”

“But milady, wouldn’t you need help getting undressed later?” she asked a little taken aback.

Rose smiled at her, “I will manage myself. You get yourself off to bed. I will be fine don’t you worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure,” Rose assured her.

“Alright then,” she answered still sounding a little certain but she gathered up the empty dinner things and said, “I’ll be back in the morning, milady, to get you ready and take you down for your orientation. Goodnight, milady.”

Rose nodded. “Goodnight, Raffalo”

As the door closed Rose breathed a sigh of relief, quiet at last. She thought about writing a letter to her mother to let her know that she, Rose, had arrived safely. She got some paper out, ink ready and a new quill and sat down to write at the writing desk in one corner of the sitting room by one of the windows. She dipped the quill into the ink, dried it of any excess and started confidently with the date and _Dear Mother._ After this she paused not sure of what to say. She sat there for some time, her mind staying stubbornly blank as with each passing second she became more and more tired. Eventually with a huff she gave up, cleaned the quill, closed up the ink, put away the paper and made her way slowly into the bedroom.

Her bedroom now, she thought.

Rose sank onto the bed. She was completely exhausted after four days of travelling, the constant press of sociability and social engaging and the realisation that she was so very far from home left Rose drained of all energy.

As she lay there, she felt the pull of sleep and summoned what strength she had in reserve to get herself ready for bed. As she struggled to get off her dress Rose somewhat regretted her decision to dismiss Raffalo but she did relish the solitude that she now had.

Once the dress was off, she unbound her hair, taking the pins out one by one and placing them on the boudoir. Her blonde hair fell about her shoulders and she washed her face in the wash basin. Finally, she reached for her night dress and once on she moved back to the bed, climbed in, and sighed contentedly at the luxurious bed wear.

Sleep claimed her with no resistance, and she did not stir again until Raffalo entered her room in the early morning.

***


	4. Orientation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes:  
> Latin:  
> One = Unum  
> Nine = Novem

As promised Raffalo arrived early the next morning to wake Rose.

Having given her order for breakfast Rose, still groggy from sleep, plodded over to newly filled wash basin to freshen herself up. Once done, Raffalo helped her on with her dress and set about brushing out and fixing her hair.

Rose felt compelled to apologise for the state of her hair, “I am sorry, no matter what I do it always ends up in a shocking state by morning.”

Raffalo gave her a sympathetic smile as she teased out Rose’s hair, strand by strand, unknotting it, “It’s no bother, milady. Really.”

Breakfast arrived just as they were finished. The last of the fog of sleep lifted from Rose as she ate and her excitement about the day ahead grew.

With a final few adjustments to her hair and dress Raffalo declared Rose ready for the day. Lady and maid joined a small queue of other debutants down the dizzying number of stairs and corridors to the entrance hall.

A small crowd had already formed when they arrived, and at its centre was a young blond-haired man. Rose assumed that he was their guide for the day.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs Raffalo bid her good day saying, “I’ll see you tonight, milady,” and left.

Rose searched the crowd for Martha. There were quite a number of young Lords and Ladies present, all dressed in luxurious and decadent clothes despite the triviality of the day. They must, like her, be trying to make an impression, showing off their status and finery even amongst each other. As with the night before, Rose felt some misgivings about the quality of her attire compared to the others. She could not be the only one here who was short on funds, but it certainly felt like it. Before her thoughts became too morose, she spotted Martha to right of the crowd chatting with another young woman and made her way over to the pair.

“Rose,” Martha smiled as she approached them, “This is Marchioness Clara Oswald. Clara, this is Baroness Rosabel Tyler.”

Rose and Clara greeted each other and as the conversation recommenced Rose was relieved to learn that Clara, much like Martha, had a rebel heart and was not too concerned with pompous etiquette.

Rose found the whole situation very auspicious, that she had found two young women not only so like herself but also of higher rank. She could not have been more fortunate if she had tried.

The court and its courtiers were a fickle bunch and there would likely not be much wiggle room for manoeuvring within the set rank and precedence. Every courtier was fiercely protective of their position and status, and any concession one managed to finagle would more than likely result in them being put back in their place at the next available opportunity. And yet somehow, not even halfway through her first full day in the palace Rose had made acquaintances and was fast becoming friends with a Countess and a Marchioness. Maybe her life in the palace would prove to be worthwhile and meaningful after all. She might just be able to marry well and save her mother and family home. She would have to thank the Goddesses for her good fortune and made a mental note to ask Raffalo where the nearest alter or temple was.

When it seemed like everyone had arrived the blond-haired man, brimming with excitement, called for their attention and a hush spread through the gathered crowd.

“Good morning Lords and Ladies. My name is Elton Pope, and I will be your guide on this orientation and tour of the royal palace and grounds. Firstly, may I welcome you all to Gallifrey city and most especially to Tardis Palace. I hope you all find your time here at court to be fruitful and rewarding.”

Rose hoped that he was right.

“Now, if you would kindly follow me, we will begin the day in the Southern courtyard. It’s just this way.” Mr. Pope pointed to his left and set off, the group following him obediently, like a gaggle of ducklings after their mother.

He led them out the front doors out to the walled expanse where the coaches had dropped Rose and Martha off yesterday evening. Rose was a little embarrassed by how little detail of the area she had actually taken in the previous day.

As the group looked around Mr. Pope explained to them that last night they had entered the Southern Courtyard through the southern archway where colossal oak doors guarded the opening. There were two other smaller entry points to the courtyard, one on the right-hand side and one on the left-hand side, facing East and West, respectively. He noted that the western exit led to gardens which he said would be more fun to explore on their own, while the stables lay through the eastern exit.

The southern archway was the official entrance to the courtyard and the largest of the three archways. Each entrance was flanked by winged humanoid statues; the southern archway had the tallest statues with the figures reaching two meters in height. The statues had tears running down their cheeks, they had one arm raised as if warding off some unknown foe while the other arm was behind them in a protective gesture. The winged figures are of dual symbology, they signified the power and protection of the kingdom, standing guard at every entrance to the palace willing to shed tears and blood in defence of its people, but they are also protective and nurturing.

The solid expanse of the encapsulating walls was broken up by large planters with a variety of flora, benches, and other smaller statues. In the centre of the courtyard stood a great statue of a triumphant man, a crown upon his head, his right hand holding a sword in the air, right foot planted high on a boulder. An unseen wind swept his hair back from his face and fanned out the end of his coat behind him.

“This is the statue of King Unum, the founder of the city and the kingdom’s first King. It is rumoured that somewhere deep within the earth buried directly beneath this statue is King Unum’s tomb.” Mr. Pope paused for dramatic effect before continuing conspiratorially, “However, no such tomb has ever been found but it has led to the area beneath the statue being called the Death Zone.”

Rose, Martha, and Clara glanced at each other eyes twinkling with levity at the prospect of such mystery and intrigue.

“Now,” Mr. Pope swept his arms up gesturing to the palace behind him, “The magnificent blue marble cladding of the place is one of the kingdom’s main exports highly valued and sought after by the royalty of other neighbouring kingdoms. The phrase ‘Which came first – the palace or the marble,’ originates from this area and the palace in question refers to is this very one.”

Rose liked Mr. Pope, his enthusiasm for his job or at least the tale he spun them was entertaining, if not admirable.

Mr. Pope continued on, “No one knows if the blue marble which covers the castle was first called Tardis blue and when the castle’s façade was put up it became known as Tardis castle. Or if the castle was first called Tardis castle when initially constructed and when it was clad in the blue marble, the marble and the castle became synonymous and so the marble became known as Tardis blue. This conundrum is what led to the very popular colloquial phrase, ‘The palace or the marble.’”

“You will notice, high, high above us are the so-called sky bridges. Gallifrey is known for is sky bridges, Arcadia is known for its porticos, and Dårlig Ulv-Stranden for its canal bridges. The sky bridges are very useful, if seldom used anymore. But, a word of warning, use them cautiously in winter for it gets bitterly cold up there and you may find you are unable to get back down.”

The three young women stifled smiles at Mr. Pope’s overexaggerated and shadowy tone.

Having finished with that side of the palace Mr. Pope chivvied them inside and down the corridors to the Great Hall.

The palace centred around the magnificent, vaulted dome of the Great Hall. The dome had stain glass windows that would cast beautiful, shimmering shapes and designs on those walking or dancing below. Many of the group, including Rose, gave small gasps upon entering the room. The Great Hall of the palace was so large that it could easily dine one thousand people and fit up to three thousand people. There was a viewing gallery, a floor or two up encircling most of the room and at the end of the Hall was a large dais which held the King and Queen’s thrones up on a plinth several steps up. The Queen’s throne was pushed back somewhat, indicting the absence of a woman filling the position. Up behind the dais was a private viewing gallery for the royal family.

Mr. Pope’s lecture continued on, “When a banquet is being held, the Great Hall is decked out to impress and entertain the most important visitors. Indeed, the guests of honour will be seated at a long oak table in front of the dais at the top of the hall.”

Mr. Pope did not mention the unspoken rule that the further you were seated from the dais and royal family, the less important you were. The warmth of a courtier’s reception at court by the King, signalling a welcome with a nod or displeasure with a turned back, indicated precisely how much they had gained or fallen from favour. In the battle for favour and success personal feelings were irrelevant, a courtier’s place and the attention they received devolved from those around them mattered more. As new arrivals at court, she, Martha, and Clara would be fairly low down the food chain, despite Martha and Clara’s higher rank.

“You are lucky to all have rooms here in the palace. Those who do not are often forced to jostle among the sea of servants in the courtyard for their own carriage when leaving a ball or banquet,” Mr. Pope finished before leading them on to their next destination, the Throne Room.

The Throne Room, which led off from the Great Hall down a long corridor was the largest of the Palace's audience halls. This was the room, as Mr. Pope told them, where visiting dignitaries, ambassadors and common folk could seek an audience with the King and where many of the day-to-day matters of the kingdom were dealt with. Statues of bygone Kings and Queens lined the walls of the hall outside the Throne Room, serving as reminders of the past glory of the kingdom.

The Throne Room was a very impressive room and reflected the power and majesty of the royal family. It was a room built to impress and impose with all of the upper parts of the walls decorated with commanding frescos.

Upon entering the room, the group was confronted immediately with many images directly across from the entrance, with the frescos depicting the King at war. Turning to the right, the group faced the length of the room and at the far end of the room the King would be seated and surrounded by his attendants. Both sides of the room were decorated with more frescos of scenes of war, except for the panels beside the doorways which were delicately carved. The back wall, to the left of the group as they entered depicted hunting scenes. The fresco directly behind the throne and taking up nearly the whole of the wall was of the founding of the city, with another once more triumphant figure of King Unum, his hands outstretched to the room’s occupants while painted citizens place offerings at his feet.

Of course, a cursory look would have only identified the genre of scenarios, not the details. Understanding the details would have required both time and more specific knowledge. But without a doubt while trying to take all of this in, it was probably the King on his throne with the scene behind him that held any visitor's attention. The meaning of that set of panels, the depiction of King Unum behind the current King was an act of deliberate significance. It was as if the King was trying to show through this depiction that he derives his kingship from King Unum himself. The choice of motifs and scenes used in the decoration of these walls showed the power and strength of not only the King or ruling monarch but also the kingdom. If other kingdoms believe that Gallifrey was strong with a fearsome army than they were far less likely to attack. There is also duality in the paintings as King Unum with his outstretched hands depicts his acceptance of his citizens and his willingness to protect them from harm and citizens carrying offerings shows their loyalty to the King and the realm.

When they had had their fill of the Throne Room, Mr. Pope moved them along to their next destination, the library, which was guarded by a set of massive elaborately carved wooden doors.

The main library stood within a grand hall, more commonly known as the Long Room, lit by massive windows and imposing chandeliers. Within the Long Room there were ornately carved marble pillars lining the central walkway, and intricately carved vaulted ceiling arches overhead and a huge stair that connect the different floors of the library.

The library was sparsely populated, and Rose noticed a few delicately written notices on many desks notifying patrons of the date of the orientation. The relatively unoccupied library now making sense.

Despite the nearly empty library, Mr. Pope lowered his voice and the group gathered closer to him to hear. “Kings and Queens, heroes and famous scholars have studied beneath this intricate wood-panelled ceiling. The library has the shelving capacity for more than one million books spread over three floors and many, many rooms. These ornate bookshelves hold the largest collection of literature in the known world. The collection includes beautiful, rare maps, and even a copy of The Founding of Gallifrey.”

The group learned how the vast windows around the library give a magnificent view of the palace and city below, while allowing essential light into the library. There were light-filled rooms, comfortable corners, and easy access to thousands of volumes which called to visitors and scholars alike.

One of the larger doors led to the Reading Room, a cathedral-like room with a stained-glass dome and wooden galleries. The glass roof with its dome let in natural light and enhanced the warmth of the room. One of the more beautiful and darker rooms of the library, in Rose’s opinion, was the Medical Room. It was a wood-panelled room with a low, opulently worked ceiling and sombre lighting. It had an elaborate span of exotic carved wood, intricate arches, and gilded patterns, with many diagrams hanging on the walls and detailed moulds and statues on display tables.

Mr. Pope continued on with their tour, “Over there is the door that leads to the Royal Library Rooms. The majestic circular entrance opens into a set of stately rooms with elaborately decorated ceilings, teak balconies, and stained-glass windows. The sumptuous interior is fit for royalty.” Mr. Pope chuckled at the attempted joke before resuming. “If you would all like to have a look around do not miss the Astronomy Room, it includes terrestrial and celestial globes made both here and from kingdoms afar.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“I will give you one half hour to look around. We will meet up by the entrance and go for bite to eat before continuing the tour from there.”

As the day continued the group found themselves mesmerised by the size and scale of the palace and its grounds. The palace was altogether so vast, so rich, so beautiful, and so very opulent in design and it was quite a marvel to see how many rooms there were just on their tour alone. The palace was very deceptive, being far bigger on the inside then it might first appear from the outside.

There were the greenhouses with their too many plants to even think about counting from various places around the kingdom and beyond. The countless towers and turrets, many with steeply twisting spiral staircases and circular rooms leading off them. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of stone and timber steps throughout the castle itself and untold numbers of elegant windows scattered across the walls in asymmetric patterns. The stables with innumerable horses, stable-hands and grooms; and the many courtyards dotted about the palace complex. Despite its ancient stone walls the royal castle had been improved and enhanced over the ages, and some parts of the palace were clearly newer than others with its inhabitants being determined to keep their castle as modern as possible over the years.

They never saw, but heard tales of, the narrow passageways which led to dank steps that twisted down from the dungeons into the dark prison cells below. Mr. Pope delighted in telling them of the supposed hauntings and ghost sightings of long-ago prisoners down in the dungeons.

After hours of walking the orientation tour finally came to an end. Mr. Pope led them back to the entrance hall where light refreshments were provided for them. The group of debutants split up, alliances and social connections already forming.

Rose, Martha, and Clara stood to the side of the entrance hall chatting quietly as a small group of well-dressed gentlemen approached them to go down the corridor to their right. Leading the group was a dark-haired handsome man who wore a cheeky smile on his face.

As the group passed the young ladies, the dark-haired man paused and turned to them.

His grin widened and his eyes were filled with mischief as he bowed to them and said, “Well now, I do not think I have ever seen such beautiful and ravishing women as you three. I must surely have at least two dances with each of you at the next ball. For what man could pass such exquisite beauties such as yourselves and not ask for just that?”

Before any of them could respond he quickly bowed again before flashing them another heart meltingly handsome grin and followed the group of men down the corridor.

The three women watched the attractive man disappear out of view before exchanging incredulous looks, only to burst into fits of laughter.

Rose was the first to recover and breathlessly said, “The absolute cheek of that man. Who does he think he is?”

“To approach us without an introduction and to say such things,” continued Martha who was also slightly out of breath from laughing.

“Who on earth was he?” Rose asked looking back and forth between Martha and Clara.

“That ladies, was Captain Jack Harkness,” answered Clara.

“Who?”

“King Novem’s Captain of the Guard, Captain Jack Harkness. He is handsome but also the most flirtatious man that ever lived,” Clara explained humorously. “He is the second son of Duke Harkness and as he will not be inheriting the family estate he has gone for a military career. He grew up with King Novem and has fought by his side during the uprisings and will be his groomsman at his Majesty’s wedding.”

“He looks so much younger than the King,” Martha remarked.

Clara nodded in agreement, “Yes, while he is one age to the King he looks at least ten years younger; but that is also helped by his near constant smile and jovial demeanour. He is one of those people who never seems to age. His youthful appearance is such a talked about thing that he has become known as the ‘The Face of Boe’ after the County of Boe where his family’s estate is.”

“Well,” Martha said, “I will happily see more of him.”

The three women burst out laughing again, the exploits of Captain Jack Harkness keeping them well entertained.

When at last their refreshments were finished, they made their way together up to the dormitory floor, all quietly exhausted from their busy day and they parted ways with promises to meet up at the ball the following evening.

***


	5. The Debutant Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Eleven = Undecim  
> Twelve = Duodecim

Rose woke late the following morning, Raffalo having let her sleep in after the long day.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair and afterwards Rose sat down with a sigh to write the letter to her mother. She gave a brief overview of her journey to the palace, meeting Martha, and the Orientation day. It was a somewhat tedious job but, in the end, she was quite happy with the letter, and at least her mother couldn’t give out to her for not writing.

She also wrote a letter to Mickey. She gave him much the same details as she had to her mother but also told him how much she missed him already.

With precise movements she folded and placed both letters within their respective envelops and dripped the heated wax over the flaps before pressing her seal, the wolf and roses, into each.

Turning to Raffalo, once the wax seal had hardened, she asked, “Would you send this off in the post?”

“Of course, milady.”

Raffalo disappeared to the post room and once she had returned, she drew a bath for Rose and took the order for lunch.

They discussed potential hairstyles for the ball as Rose bathed and settled for a half-up half-down style.

Lunch arrived not long after and Rose, despite the late breakfast, devoured the soup and sandwiches as she towel-dried her hair.

She was just finishing the last bite of soup when Raffalo asked, “Have you chosen a dress for this evening?”

Rose groaned, her misgivings over the quality of her outfits rose once more, “No.”

“Hmmm,” Raffalo murmured and retreated into the bedroom to study the clothes in the wardrobe.

Rose followed and watched over her shoulder. “Maybe the blue? Or the green?” she suggested.

Raffalo was quiet for a few moments before pulling out a cream dress, “How about this one?”

It was one of Rose’s new dresses, a delicate cream coloured material with black needle work, trims, and accents that was mostly gathered to one side over the bodice and waist giving a dynamic look and fall to the material.

“Yes," Rose answered gratefully, "I think that will do perfectly,” Rose said.

Once the dress was chosen the jewellery quickly followed, with Rose’s small collection making the decisions rather easy.

The afternoon passed in a blur as Rose got ready, the dress, accessories, hair, and finally a light touching of powder and rouge.

Before they knew it a knock on the door heralded Martha’s arrival to collect Rose before the pair would make their way down to the Great Hall together.

Rose placed the last of the pins in her hair as Raffalo let Martha in. “Be out in a minute,” she called from the bedroom.

“No rush, we have plenty of time,” came Martha’s reply.

“Would you like some refreshments, milady?”

“Just some water,” Martha said.

“There! I’m all done,” Rose said as she exited the bedroom.

“Hmm,” Martha murmured having just taken a sip of water. “You look lovely.”

“So do you,” Rose smiled. Martha wore a lovely white and blue dress, the white fabric being covered with delicate blue floral and geometric designs.

“Oh, before I forget, my friend Lady Sally Sparrow and her fiancé Lord Larry Nightingale will be there tonight. You will like her, she is a bit of an adventurer like you,” Martha smiled warmly.

Rose was intrigued about this new acquaintance and after Raffalo saw them off and they began their decent down to the Hall she asked Martha about Lady Sparrow.

Martha enthusiastically described Sally’s love of exploring old buildings and ruins, and how Larry would make beautiful drawings and paints of the places they visited.

“That is how we met, about two years ago now,” Martha explained. “There are centuries old underground tunnels in the city back home that Sally wanted to see. They stopped me on the street to ask for directions and we got talking. They were staying for a few days, so we went for lunch and I showed them around the city. We have been exchanging letters ever since.”

Rose liked the sound of the couple. “But tonight is not their debut?”

“No, that was three years ago, I think. Could be four though. So they will know the run of the place and will have all the court gossip.”

Their conversation had carried them to the doors of the Hall where they presented their invitations.

The footman’s voice boomed loudly as he announced them but given the size of the crowd Rose wondered how many had actually heard the declaration. Although, there were enough keen eyes taking in herself and Martha that she was sure they had not gone unnoticed.

It was Martha’s sharp intake of breath that drew Rose’s focus from the nearby crowd to the Hall itself and she barely stifled a gasp of her own.

The room was magnificent. If it was impressive the previous day, it was nothing compared to now.

Light danced from a myriad of chandeliers and candelabras, some with stained glass hanging around them creating a moving kaleidoscope of colours and patterns. Elegantly dressed tables were dotted around the room heaving with food and drinks. Exotic potted plants decorated the bottom of the pillars while the top was wrapped in delicate material that draped between pairs of pillars. The effect was utterly enchanting.

They moved to the right, surveying the room as they went. Those in attendance were mainly the debutants, and those one-age to Rose and Martha, but there was still a sizeable number of older courtiers present too. Probably to keep an eye on the debutants, Rose thought wryly.

With a disgruntled sigh Martha muttered, “I really should have specified where we would meet them. It is going to take an age to find them in this crowd.”

The pair made their way through the assembly of glittering jewels and fine clothes avoiding the dance floor which already had several couples out dancing.

“Oh, there she is,” Martha said relieved, before leading Rose over to a pretty blonde woman in a purple dress who beckoning them over. Rose assumed that this was Lady Sparrow and the blond man in a burgundy jacket by her side must be Lord Nightingale. She was proven correct when Martha made the introductions.

Jovially, Sally said, “Please call us Sally and Larry, all this Lord and Lady that is very formal.”

Any concern Rose felt over meeting new people and her first ball at the palace quickly faded away. Martha had been right, she did like Sally. And Larry too, although he was a bit quirkier than Sally. They were an easy going, good natured couple and she doubted they would hold her lack if fortune against her.

Larry was in the middle of describing their latest trip when a voice from behind them said, “Oh, hello.”

It was Lady Oswald, Clara, who they had met the previous day.

Another round of introductions was quickly made, and the conversation continued. Larry finished her tale and asked Clara about her family.

She smiled sadly, “I lost my parents to the plague when I was quite young and I was brought up by my guardian, Lord Duodecim.”

“Oh, I am sorry,” Rose said reaching out a hand to Clara, “I lost my father to it too.”

Clara gave a small smile and squeezed Rose’s hand, “Thank you.”

She explained how Lord Duodecim had lost his family many years ago during the first year of the plague and had quickly fallen into a depression after the loss of his loved ones. His estate had begun to fall into ruin and he hardly ever left his room. After much wavering it had been decided that Lord Duodecim, as Clara’s closest living relative after her parents had passed, should take her as his ward. Within a few months the young Lady Oswald had done the near impossible, she had brought purpose back into Lord Duodecim’s life. He had slowly come out of his depression as joy and the exuberance of youth were reintroduced into his life. For this reason, Clara had been affectionately dubbed, ‘The Impossible Girl’ by all those who were close to the pair.

After Clara's tale, Sally began to regal them with the story of her and Larry’s engagement, an engagement everyone else seemed to know was going to happen but the poor couple involved, when she abruptly stopped and exclaimed, “Oh! I think that’s the king!”

As one they turned looking around.

“What? Where?” asked Martha standing on her tiptoes to see better through the crowd.

“No, up there. On the balcony.”

Clara nodded, “I think your right, that is him.”

Rose looked frantically around trying to spot him, “I don’t see him.”

“Other side, Rose,” Martha pointed out.

“Oh no, he is leaving,” Sally said as Rose’s eyes darted to the other side of the balcony, but there was no one there.

Her shoulders slumped, “I missed him!”

“Pity. Still, there will be plenty of other chances to see him,” Larry consoled her.

Rose was quite disheartened that she missed her first chance to catch a glimpse of the King, but she had little time to dwell on the fact as Larry drew her into conversation about Arcadia.

“We are very keen on going there. I have heard stories of the ruins of old city and the first porticos. I would love to get a painting or two of them.”

“And to explore the ruins,” Sally chimed in.

Rose smiled at their enthusiasm. She had visited the ruins in Old Town a number of times and did her best to describe them.

“Sadly, quite a lot of the old city was burnt down in the Great Fire and that’s what started the construction of what is now the city. What is left are mainly the parts that escaped the fire with little or no damage, although there are still some remains of badly burned builds. On the whole, what remains is well-preserved and the last number of years has seen a great deal of restoration and conservation, particularly the old porticos.”

Her descriptions seemed to fuel the couple’s desire to visit and by the end of the discussion they had decided to go in the Autumn.

The conversation moved to places they would all like to visit outside the kingdom when Rose noticed a red-haired woman in a gorgeous dark purple gown making her way through the crowd and greeting guests. She was someone importance by the way she held herself and moved through the crowd, the deference the other quests were showing her.

“Who is that? The woman in purple with red hair.” Rose asked.

The others turned and looked through the crowd.

“That is Duchess Donna Noble,” Clara said.

Seeing Rose’s look of confusion Larry elaborated, “Duchess Noble is on the King’s council and one of his closest friends. She is,” he paused and gave a wry smile, “‘The Most Important Woman in the Kingdom’.”

“The what?” Martha exclaimed as Larry chuckled enjoying Martha and Rose’s confusion.

Sally kindly put them out of their misery, “It is a title the courtiers gave her, not entirely unironically. During the uprisings of King Novem’s early rule she was instrumental in saving the kingdom. His Majesty, as well as Captain Harkness, had been to the Western borders of Gallifrey trying to defeat the rebels there, while Duchess Noble and a few of the other higher-ranking nobles were left in charge of the palace affairs. However, there was a traitor in their midst and a coup was attempted. If it had not been for the Duchess’s quick thinking, resourcefulness, and bravery then the palace, and perhaps the kingdom, might have been lost to the rebels and traitors. So afterwards everyone started calling her ‘The Most Important Woman in the Kingdom’.”

“Incidentally,” Larry added, “She has been looking for a second husband for years, her first died some years ago in a sailing accident.”

“Yes, thank you Larry,” Sally remarked sarcastically, “We were all dying to know that.”

Larry did not seem mind her sarcasm, in fact he looked rather pleased with himself.

Any further conversation was halted as Duchess Noble, flanked by two advisors, eventually reached their group. She inclined her head and the group bowed in return.

“Marchioness Oswald, Countess Jones, and Baroness Tyler,” Donna began, looking at each of them in turn. “On behalf of his Majesty, King Novem, I welcome you to Tardis Palace and Gallifrey city. His Majesty offers his apologises that he could not welcome you in person but matters of state have kept him away from tonight’s festivities.”

There was a chorus of ‘Thank you, your Grace,’ from the three women.

“Please enjoy the celebration of your arrival at court and may the Gods and Goddesses watch over you during your time with us.”

There was another round of ‘Thank you’s’ and bowing.

“Lady Sparrow, Lord Nightingale,” Donna said with another incline of her head as she left.

“Your Grace,” the couple bowed as she passed.

“So, we do not get presented to the King?” Rose asked once the Duchess was out of earshot.

“No,” Clara replied. “I believe they stopped that once the King was coronated. Because of all the trouble with the rebellion when he was crowned, the council did not want to risk his Majesty’s safety and it has remained that way ever since.”

“Oh,” Rose said heavily. Another change to see the King snatched away from her.

Hunger brought the group to the buffet table and Rose and Martha were entertained with stories of notable young courtiers.

“Do you see the couple over there?”

“The ones in matching shades of blue?”

“Yes, they are Lord Rory and Lady Amelia Pond. Newlyweds and a very lucky couple,” Clara paused to take a bite of her sandwich.

“Do go on,” Martha teased even though Clara’s mouth was full.

“Well, they had an arranged marriage, and you know how those often go.”

Everyone nodded, they did know. Arranged marriages seldom resulted in domestic bliss. Many were political or strategic matches and were loveless, some couples grew to tolerate each other, fewer still even liked each other, and rarest of all was a couple that actually fell in love with each other. As the old adage went ‘Marry first, and love will come after.’

Of course, sometimes things happened the other way round.

Clara continued, “It turns out they fell deeply in love with each other with little encouragement needed from their parents, not something you see very often. They would have run off and gotten married at a scandalously young age had their parents not stopped them. They were made go through the whole rigmarole a formal courtship before anything could happen.”

“It was not all happy though,” she added. “They were not yet formally engaged when Lord Pond was drafted into the military to fight and protect the Southern borders. Everyone had expected him to propose before he left for the south, but he never did. Many people began to call Lady Pond, ‘The Girl Who Waited’ because she and her family were forced to wait for nearly two years before Lord Pond's return home. He finally proposed to her then, much to everyone’s delight.”

“I daresay that was more than enough drama for any family,” Martha said.

“You have not heard about Lady Pond’s sister, Lady River Song, then?” Larry said mysteriously.

“No, I have not, but do tell.”

“Well, Lady River Song is married to a man called Viscount Undeim. Viscount Undeim is a number of years younger than Lady Song but they both shared the same somewhat untamed and unpredictable nature which is what resulted in their meeting in the first instance. Not unlike Sally and myself they have their peculiar pastimes. They both have keen interests in history, archaeology, and adventure, and they were never short of an exciting tale of two of their many escapades. Their engagement and wedding encapsulate their personalities and relationship.”

Larry paused savouring the rapt attention the group was giving him and the tale he told.

"Contrary to convention, it was not Viscount Undeim who proposed to Lady Song. She proposed to him!"

Rose drew breath, along with all the others, and murmured, "No. She did not?"

Sally nodded excitedly to Rose while Larry continued, “Not only that but they eloped too. She did what her sister could not. They disappeared one night and came back two weeks later married. Caused quite the furore in court, I can tell you.”

“I bet it did,” Martha said.

In all her years Rose had never heard of such a thing, for a woman to both propose and elope. Such a thing would be, is, considered improper and highlights an unrestrained disposition in a woman. At least that was the view society held, one that Rose did not agree with.

Rose did not think she had the gumption within herself to break so many public and social ethicises. She and Mickey had had their fun and courted trouble many times, but they had always made sure that their families and especially the wider public never found out. Though, she could not fault Lady Song for following her heart and claiming the man she loved. It was such a romantic notion to propose and elope with a man. She wondered if she would ever find such a love. A love so complete and consuming that she would rebel against society and convention and follow her heart.

Rose’s musings were cut short when Clara called gleefully, “Let's dance!” and chivvied the group to the dance floor.

“I don’t know any of the new dances,” Rose said quickly, a slight note of panic entering her voice.

“I only know the start of the dances so I a m no good either,” Martha added apologetically.

“Oh, do not worry. We will teach you,” Clara assured them, but the mischievous grin on her face spelled trouble.

The trio's attempts to teach Rose and Martha did indeed encounter a few snags, mainly the whole group ending up in fits of laughter as Martha and Rose repeatedly got the steps wrong, often crashing into the others. Luckily, they were at the side of the dance floor so their activities did not interfere with anyone else and they only received mildly annoyed looks from passing courtiers.

At last the pair mastered the steps and ventured onto the dance floor proper.

The musicians played lively and upbeat music and soon the group had split up, twirling and spinning their way all across the dance floor. The dances were fast, and partners changed before one had time to get introduced, but it did not matter.

Rose had rarely attended parties or balls with large ballrooms and she relished the feeling of space, the excited mood of those around her, and the constant whirling of people. A number of times she tilted her head back to gaze up at the stained-glass ceiling high above her. The shimmering glass soaring above her added to the heady thrill of people and movement around the dance floor and the flickering kaleidoscope of the many candles.

Sometime later, limbs aching, and throat parched Rose sought refuge at the drinks table, waving to a passing Sally and Larry.

She decided against alcohol and chose water to quench her thirst. She took her glass and went to stand by one of the pillars bordering the dancefloor when she accidentally bumped into someone. She turned, an apology on her lips, but she never got the chance to speak.

“Watch it! Imbecile!” hissed a blonde-haired woman who eyed Rose with a look of pure distain.

“I am sorry,” Rose began but she was cut off.

“Know your place, girl. Or someone will be all too happy to put you back in it!” with another look of contempt the woman stacked off.

Rose stared after her in bewilderment. She shook her head, what an odd woman. So rude too. Welcome to court, she thought, where random strangers will accost you for the smallest infraction.

“Ach!” she muttered. She would not let some random and boorish courtier spoil her evening.

She spotted Clara not too far away who also appeared to be taking a break from dancing and made her way over to her.

They watched the dancing in companionable silence until Rose caught a glimpse of the rude courtier.

“Do you know who that woman is?” she asked, pointing across the room.

“Which one?”

“The blonde one, over there next to the potted plant.”

“The one with a yellow forsythia pinned to her dress?”

“Yes, her.”

“You know, I haven’t the foggiest. I can look into it, if you want?”

Rose nodded and thanked Clara.

“There you are!” came Martha’s breathless voice from behind them. “I have been looking everywhere for you two, I must have been up and down the hall at least three times!”

“Well, you found us now,” Clara laughed. “Where are the other two?”

“They were getting drinks and were going to follow after. Oh, here they are now.” Martha waved and managed to catch Larry’s attention and he steered Sally over to the group.

As the dancing and fun continued Rose looked at her new group of friends.

Each of them was just a little different, a little rebellious, in their own way and would not be quite so readily welcomed by the wider court. Rose had her poverty, Martha her strong will and outspoken nature, Clara had her connection to the peculiar Lord Duodecim as well as the idiosyncrasies that she had picked up from him, and Sally and Larry had their adventurous and inquisitive spirits. Against the odds, this group of young unconventional courtiers had found each other. They may be talked about, their interests, personalities, and appearances may be ridiculed, but they had each other.

Rose stood a little straighter and lifted her head up. It may not be grand or prestigious, but she had found her place in the palace. She had found friends, true friends, and the court could throw a hundred spiteful and arrogant courtiers, like that blonde woman earlier, her way but it did not matter.

Rose was pulled from her thoughts by Clara calling her to come dance some more. Rose put down the glass and went to join her friends. The night was young and so were they, and there was a lot more dancing and merriment to be had.

***


	6. The King’s Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Long live the King = Vivat Rex

The morning arrived bright and warm. Summer in Gallifrey was so far very pleasant and quite at odds with the stifling heat of Arcadia’s summers that Rose was used to.

She awoke to the sounds of Raffalo pottering about the room and reluctantly pushed the covers away and got up as Raffalo said, “We’ll need to find something nice for you to wear today, milady.”

Rose splashed some water on her face, her maid’s words registering with her.

“Nice? Why?” she questioned, drying her face with the facecloth Raffalo had just handed to her.

Raffalo gave a short giggle, “My Lady, it’s the King’s birthday.”

Rose blinked, “The King’s bir- Already?”

Raffalo laughed properly, “Yes, milady, already. Birthdays do tend to happen once a year.”

“Oh, you know what I meant,” Rose replied with her own huff of laughter.

“Indeed, I did, milady. Now, the azure or the jade dress.”

“Oh, I do not know. The azure?” Rose dropped heavily onto the edge of her bed. “What does it matter anyway? It’s not like I can actually attend the birthday celebration.”

A celebratory ball was to be held in the Great Hall for the King’s birthday, an exclusive event that only the highest-ranking courtiers were invited to. The likes of Rose did not get an invite.

Large scale birthday celebrations, such as the ball that night, were held every two years and alternated with the Summer Games for both financial and practical reasons. On the alternative years, a smaller more private gathering was held.

“Maybe not, milady, but that does not mean you cannot look your best.”

Rose gave a shrug of agreement before confirming, “The azure dress.”

Once dressed Rose ventured out into the palace to find the place was decked out for the festivities with many courtiers using the excuse to indulge in the revelries.

As the weeks had gone by Rose had been introduced to a cast of colourful characters; courtiers who schemed, fawned and flattered their way into royal favour all the while exchanging dubious smiles and forced compliments. The hierarchy that Mr. Pope had mentioned briefly during their tour soon became clear to Rose. Questions were asked through looks or gestures, welcomes or snubs. How long has your family been noble? How many of your paternal and maternal grandparents’ lineages were noble? Into what other families did it marry? Those at the very top of the hierarchy advised, gossiped, held and told many secrets. To be on good terms with those at the top was to receive help in climbing the social ladder, as well as, making an advantageous match. On the other hand, if you made an enemy of them, they would ostracize you forever from court society. Such was the hierarchy and life at the Gallifreyan court, where noble blood and the ability to carry a good conversation was even more important than being good with a sword, until it came time for war.

Rose had sought refuge from the exuberant crowds and the endless questions of ‘Have you been invited to the Ball?’ in one of the less used parlour rooms. Mercifully, it was empty, and Rose had spent a happy couple of hours quietly reading her latest book before Martha came bursting into the room, all excitement and enthusiasm.

“I’ve done it!” she exclaimed. “I am a genius. I have actually done it!”

“What? Done what? And how did you know where I was?”

Martha waved off the latter question, “Oh, one of the servants saw you come in here hours ago, I took an educated guess that you would not have moved. And I was right.” She paused, beaming ear to ear, and practically bouncing on her toes.

“What?” asked Rose expectantly.

“I’ve done it! I have managed to get us invitations to the King’s Ball! Tonight!”

“You have not,” Rose said, her tone incredulous but she could not suppress a grin, “I do not believe it.” Rose could not help but laugh as she said the words of disbelief. Could Martha have managed to do it, to get them invitations to the birthday celebrations? Happiness did not begin to describe what Rose felt.

“Show me the letter.”

“Oh no, you have to say it first,” Martha retorted grinning mischievously.

“Say what?” Rose tested, but she had a feeling as to what Martha wanted and the meaningful look she was getting confirmed her assumption.

“Oh, all right... Countess Martha Jones you are an extraordinary woman, and I would not have been able to get the invitation without you.”

“Thank you.” Martha was now beaming with smugness but handed the letter to Rose. It read as follows:

_To Countess Martha Jones,_

_We are once again most appreciative for your correspondence and now speedily write to you bearing the most illustrious tidings. Your application that yourself, Countess Martha Jones, and your companion, Baroness Rosabel Tyler, gain admittance to his Majesty, King Novem’s, Birthday celebration has been accepted. Duchess Donna Noble has personally approved your request, a great honour we are sure you recognise. Present yourselves at the main doors to the Great Hall and present the enclosed invitations and you will both be received._

_We once again offer you are most cordial and affable wishes,_

_Signed, The Gallifreyan Royal Council._

“Oh, Martha you really are an utterly amazing person!”

“I know!”

Rose playfully hit her on the arm. “Can you believe Duchess Noble has personally approved your request? Or are they just saying that?”

“Hmm… Good question. Either way, we have been noticed!”

Martha was right. Getting admittance to such a prestigious ball within their first few months was astonishing in and of itself, but on the off chance that they had indeed been noticed by Duchess Noble then that was an even bigger boon. As one of King Novem’s most loyal confidants getting recognised by Duchess Noble was a sure way to climb to the top of the social ladder.

The two women, giddy with excitement, made their way back to their rooms. The servants were called and decisions on dresses, accessories, and hairstyles were made speedily but with utmost care.

Half an hour before the ball was due to start Rose and Martha made their way downstairs.

Rose wore the second of her new dresses, a light purple over skirt and soft pink under skirt, while Martha wore a stunning dark blue dress with gold accents.

There was a long queue to get in, and when they reached the doors they presented their invitations to the footman who called out their names as they entered the hall.

Just as with their Debutant Ball the hall was beautifully decorated. Decked out in bright colours, the chandeliers and candelabras, with stained-glass pieces made a reappearance while ribbons, flags, and banners decorated every surface, adding to a celebratory mood.

Rose and Martha meandered through the crowd until at last they found Clara, who, thanks to her guardian, was able to get an invitation.

“Sally and Larry also managed to get in,” Clara told them, “Larry was able to call in a few favours and got them tickets.”

“Do you know where they are?” Martha asked.

Clara looked around the place before pointing up the room, “Last time I saw them they were over there. Come on.”

Clara led the way through the boisterous crowd. The dancing had yet to begin and the real festivities would only start after the King’s speech but with the alcohol already flowing the mood was rowdy.

After much struggle they found Sally and Larry near the windows at the side of the Hall.

As the conversation ebbed and flowed Rose looked around the room, or at least the part of it she could see.

Every Lord and Lady was wearing their best and not a hair was out of place. Immaculately tailored garments and the finest jewellery were on display for the crème of society to see.

Across the room Rose spied a handsome young man in a grey suit. He was one age to herself if not a little older, with dark hair and a cute face.

He caught her eye and smiled, raising his glass to her.

She began to make her way over to him when someone slammed into her.

“Watch it, girl,” hissed a voice from next to her.

Rose turned an angry retort ready on her lips, but the words died when she saw who it was. It was the blonde woman she had bumped into several weeks ago.

Clara had enquired about her for Rose and found out that she was called Lady Cassandra O'Brien.

Lady Cassandra, as she was more commonly known, had been married several times and had a fixation on keeping her skin moisturised to prevent it from drying out. Cassandra considered herself one of the last ‘pure’ nobles, and all others as 'mongrels'. She was a supremely arrogant and callous woman who lacked any and all compassion. She was nicknamed ‘skins’ by her opponents in court to highlight her obsession with moisturised skin and her shallow skin-deep view of people.

Lady Cassandra gave her a cruel smile before turning to leave.

Rose’s stomach dropped. She had made a dangerous enemy in Lady Cassandra and all because of a harmless mistake.

Still, at least she could still go over to the handsome gentleman, but when she turned she found that her handsome gentleman had disappeared.

Rose had no time to be disappointed because Clara abruptly appeared at her side, “Come on, Rose. Over here.”

Leading Rose through the crowd over to the others, she explained, “The King is about to give his speech.”

The pair reached the group who were standing by the windows at the top of the hall, to the right of the dais where the King would be.

“Up here,” Larry said as he helped Sally and Martha up onto the wide sills, “We will have a better view.”

Rose noticed as Larry helped her up that they were not the only ones climbing onto the sills for a better view.

Rose had just gotten herself into a comfortable and secure position, holding onto one of the window latches, when a hush spread from those just in front of the dais down through the hall.

A man stepped forward and began to speak.

She stared at him, this man, her King. He was at least ten years older than her by the look of him, tough, and hard as nails, she reckoned. He was lean and fit, with short dark hair, clad in an immaculate fitting and sumptuous black coat with intricate patterns and shapes embroidered on it in gold thread that deepened his complexion. He looked lethally handsome and incredibly alluring. His voice, which Rose only just realised she had never heard before, rumbled deep in his chest with a clear northern inflection.

“My Lords and Ladies of Gallifrey! I welcome you to this most wondrous ball. It is a great pleasure to be here with all of you to celebrate this birthday.”

His eyes swept around the room as he continued his speech. He turned at one point and faced Rose’s direction and she could have sworn they made eye contact, just for a second. She took in his glittering blue eyes and strong cheekbones, hollow in the flickering candlelight. He smiled as he spoke, a smile that took her breath away.

"Now, enjoy the night for there are many festivities and surprises to delight in!"

Cheers went up around the hall with calls of, “Long live the King,” and “Vivat Rex.”

Rose found herself whispering, almost unknowingly, “Long live the King,” along with the crowd’s shouts but her eyes remained trained on the King. She was captivated by him and did not want to look away. This man she had only heard about or seen in painted portraits was right in front of her and he was far more handsome then she had expected.

Eventually she did have to tear her eyes from him for when the cheering died down they were all directed out to the veranda which surrounded the Great Hall. The crowd spilled out the open doors and the night sky was filled with fireworks.

Rose had seen displays in Arcadia but nothing like this. Peonys, chrysanthemums, willows, comets, and crossettes lit up the night sky with an array of shapes and colours. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and silver sparkling and dazzling shapes filled her vision.

The crowd ‘oo’d’ and ‘ahh’d’ at the display and Rose clapped and cheered along with them. The alcohol flowed and the contagious excitement and thrill carried on the air, through the crowd. It was electrifying.

The display ended with a crescendo of fireworks in the sky before a series of small pinwheels lit up along the edge of the veranda. Most of the crowd pressed back inside where tables full of alcohol and food awaited them, side rooms were opened up for card games and gambling, and once the music started the floor was quickly filled with dancing couples.

The night passed in a dizzying blur of dancing and laughing, of drinking and eating. However, despite the thrill of the evening Rose constantly found her thoughts returning to the dark figure of the King, he had taken over her mind, this man who ruled the kingdom.

She had not seen him again, wherever he was she was just in the wrong place or the crowd was too vast for her to even catch another glimpse of him.

It was almost a blessing when the others called it a night and made their way out of the hall and up to their rooms. At least in sleep Rose could stop thinking of the King.

She crawled into bed after Raffalo helped her out of her dress and undid her hair, and mercifully she did not dream that night.

***


	7. Adam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Novem = Nine  
> Editorem = Editor

Several weeks after the King’s birthday celebration as summer turned to autumn Rose and Martha set out for walk. They had learned very quickly that they were both more fond of brisk walks compared to the others. Both Sally and Clara had cried off the outings after only two excursions and so Rose and Martha often went on their own.

The pair fell into a routine of a circuit in the gardens once a week.

It was during one of these jaunts that they came across Sally and Larry, and some friends. Rose was acquainted with all except one of the handsome gentlemen. As they approached Rose was pleasantly surprised to see that the unknown Lord was the same attractive gentleman she had seen at the ball a few weeks prior.

Sally was quick to introduce him. “Ladies, may I present Lord Adam Mitchell.”

Rose looked up at Lord Mitchell with an approving gaze.

“Adam, this is Lady Rose Tyler and Lady Martha Jones.”

Lord Mitchell nodded to Martha and smiled to Rose

“Lady Tyler, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you, Lord Mitchell.”

Yes, Rose thought, she very much liked the look of him.

As the group chatted Lord Mitchell turned and spoke directly to Rose.

“This is your first year in Gallifrey?” he asked pleasantly.

“Yes, I only arrived a few months ago. How long have you been here?”

“Oh, I have been here for three years,” his tone contained a note of pride, “I know all the castles’ secrets,” he finished giving her a wink.

The group talked for a short while before moving off at a leisurely pace.

Lord Mitchell offered his arm to Rose so they would leave the group, but Rose politely refused, not wanting to so obviously leave the group. Thankfully, Lord Mitchell did not seem to mind too much.

"So, you are staying in the Dormitory rooms, yes?"

"Yes, I have a lovely suite of rooms overlooking a small courtyard garden."

"The one with the small fountain?"

"Yes."

As their conversation continued Rose determined that she did quite like Lord Mitchell. He was handsome and funny, although he was perhaps a tad boastful, but then again, what young courtier wasn’t.

The longer they walked the more the group began to naturally separate into smaller groups. Lord Mitchell once again offered his arm, and this time Rose tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow with a smile. They strolled companionably for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“I hope...” He checked himself, then went on, “That is, I would very much like to call on you soon to extend an invitation to an afternoon in the gardens. I hope you will be able to attend?”

Rose’s heart skipped a beat, and she did her best to remain composed, “That would be wonderful. I look forward to receiving the invitation.”

Adam smiled.

“Perhaps, if we were each to bring a friend, that way we would not have to worry about bringing chaperones.”

She let a bright smile spread across her face, “Yes, I shall ask Martha.”

~~*~~

True to his word an invitation to promenade through the gardens arrived for Rose and Martha the following day. Sadly, there was no Lord Mitchell accompanying the invite, but he had sent an apologetic note along too asking for forgiveness that his busy schedule did not allow him to hand deliver the invitation.

A little dishearten but still elated, Rose went to find Martha.

She found Martha in the Lower South salon.

“From the way you have bounced into the room I assume someone has taken your fancy?”

“Well, it's just Lord Mitchell has-”

“Oh, Lord Mitchell is it?” Martha smirked. “Sally did mention something about Lord M. Clara too.”

"Dear me! It sounds to me as if everyone knows," Rose half laughed, half groaned.

"My dear Rose, the whole palace knows that Lord M has taken a fancy to you.”

“Yes well,” Rose seemed nervous before forging ahead, “He is devastatingly handsome for one thing, you must admit that."

Martha sighed, "He is, and I do so like handsome men."

"Don't we all!" Rose giggled.

“So, what has Lord M done to make you so happy?”

~~*~~

The day of the garden outing soon rolled around. It was a glorious late summer, early autumn afternoon, there was hardly a cloud in the sky and a delightfully cool breeze off the mountains skittered playfully through the trees.

The prospect of the whole court knowing of her and Adam’s attachment when they barely knew of it themselves almost made Rose cancel, but she gathered her courage and she and Martha headed out to the gardens.

Lord Mitchell had brought a friend, a very pale blond man with beady eyes, who he introduced as Lord Editorem.

The girls had both hoped that having male companions would make their walk rather more like the brisk outings they were used to taking, however, it seemed the men were no more willing to stride out than their friends were. They strolled along at a snail’s pace, pausing frequently to acknowledge acquaintances or to point out persons of interest.

Rose would have forgiven Adam and his friend’s languid conduct had it not been for what she had overheard them saying during the walk and their later actions of cowardice which made her turn completely against both men.

Martha and herself, although walking relatively slowly, had gone quite a distance in front of the two men. They came to a halt after rounding one of the larger corners that opened up on to a small uncluttered lawn.

“Where have they got to?” Martha asked, a tinge of annoyance creeping into her voice.

Rose eyed the throng of courtiers on the path, even standing on tiptoe to try and spot their companions but to no avail.

With a slight sigh and a shrug of her shoulders, Rose said, “I will go find them.”

The main path was filling up and to save herself from having to weave in and around the crowd Rose went down a smaller and less crowded side path that was lined with foliage. She had gone a short distance when she came upon the two men.

They had stepped aside, just off the path in the shelter of the trees and were conversing in low voices. Rose was unsure why, but she felt the need to not let them see her. She inched closer to hear what they were saying, making sure to stay hidden.

“You are both pretty enough, in their own ways,” Lord Mitchell was saying but a slight frown creased his forehead.

His friend nodded in agreement, “It is a great pity that Lady Rosabel has not her friend’s fortune. But then again, her friend does not have the advantage of striking beauty. But that...” He sighed, “...that is always the way of things. And there is no real reason why either of them should not marry well.”

“Just not to us.”

“Quite. Still, we can have some fun with them,” the man laughed suggestively.

Lord Mitchell clapped his friend on the shoulder, his own voice filled with lewd mirth, “Indeed we can!”

Rose could not believe what she was hearing. Such horrid words, they were beyond reproach the pair of them.

Not wanting the two men to know she overheard them, Rose returned by the smaller side path and with her quick pace had made it back to Martha in no time and well before the men rounded the corner.

Martha gave her a questioning look on her return, but Rose just shrugged her shoulders and shook her head indicating that she had not found them. She would tell Martha later what she had overheard.

Once the men had caught up with them, Martha asked, “It is getting quite busy shall we move to a less crowed area?”

“What a splendid idea.”

They meandered to an area with large trees and many low hanging branches on which a group of children were currently climbing. Rose became fascinated by one particularly precocious girl who had climbed higher than the rest.

As Rose watched her the young girl gave a scream, losing her balance and falling. Rose gave a cry of her own and the group, once they realised what happened, ran to the girl.

The girl lay on the ground, unmoving. There was blood running down the side of her head. The rest of the children, who crowded around their fallen friend, scarpered as the adults neared.

Rose glanced around in dismay when she realised Lord Mitchell’s friend had disappeared somewhere between the run to the fallen child and their arrival at her side. Lord Adam was a little way behind them, slowly backing away, pale and mouth agape like a fish out of water.

“Quick Lord Adam, we need help!”

“I eh... I.... do not think... I eh....”

To Rose’s utter horror Lord Adam proceeded to faint.

“He must be haemophobic” Martha said as she bent down to check on the girl’s condition.

“He is what?”

“Haemophobic, it is an extreme and irrational fear of blood. In severe cases, such as his, the fear can cause uncommon physical reactions, specifically fainting at the sight of blood,” she said without looking up.

“Oh wonderful,” Rose muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Rose here take my coat, press it firmly but not roughly to her head. We need to get the bleeding under control.”

As Rose held the fabric Martha continued examining the girl.

“It seems to be just the head wound and some minor bruising. How is the bleeding?”

“I think it is slowing.”

“Good, that is good,” noticing the look of distain Rose was giving Adam, Martha continued, “I thought Lord M was your beau?”

“Not anymore.”

Martha raised an eyebrow but did not say anything else on the subject. “She should be alright,” Martha pronounced as some colour returned to the still unconscious girl.

“How do you know so much about medical treatments?”

“Well, you know how my mother is sick?” Rose nodded. “She has been sick ever since I was child, for as long as I can remember really. And when I was small there use to be all these different doctors coming and going from the house trying to treat her. But they never could. And well, as a child I wished that when I grew up that I could become a doctor and find a way to cure her.”

“Oh Martha.”

“When I was old enough I started reading any medical books that were in the library at home. I even asked the doctors could I borrow some of their books, most of them said no and that I was a foolish young girl. But there was one young doctor, Dr. Milligan, who did give me books; he even let me keep some of them.”

The young girl gave a soft moan.

“Good, she is coming around,” Martha said.

They managed to flag down a passing group and were able to organise to get the girl brought to a physician.

A newly conscious Adam quickly disappeared, all pretence of attachment to Rose was now gone. Not that Rose was very much surprised. His finding out of her lack of fortune and then such an ego bruising occurrence as fainting left no room for them.

Their escapade had taken up much of the day and after Rose relayed to Martha Lord Mitchell and his friend's comments the two women thought it was best they retire early, put the whole day behind them and pretend it never happened.

Rose was quiet all evening, she bemoaned Lord Mitchell’s behaviour as her mind replayed the day’s events on a loop.

She sighed as she climbed into bed. He would not be the first impoverished nobleman to wish to marry for money and he would not be the last. But it was not at all what Rose wanted. She had hoped that she might meet a young man who did not mind that she was not wealthy, a man that did not need to be kept in splendid indolence.

Yawning she pulled the covers up to her ears. If today had taught her anything, it was that she might as well stop hoping to happen upon someone who would want to marry her and miraculously make everything right. She could not return home and continue to drain her mother’s scant resources. It was about time, she decided as her eyes drifted shut, to come up with some plan to find herself a husband.

~~*~~

It was several weeks after the disaster with Lord Mitchell with the chill of autumn having settled upon the city and its inhabitants that Rose craved distraction from her continuing melancholy over the whole fiasco.

The others too were feeling restless and they discussed their options.

“A ball?” Martha suggested. “But I feel we have been to too many balls of late.”

“Perhaps a literary or musical evening?” Clara suggested.

“Oh, a musical evening would be perfect,” chimed Sally.

“Then it is settled,” Clara said, “I shall find us a musical evening to go to.

Clara did indeed find them somewhere to go. Two days later they were all attending an intimate musical evening in Lady Cathica Santini Khadeni's house.

Rose, wearing a deep blue dress, made her way down to the Southern courtyard where she and the others would take a carriage to Lady Santini Khadeni's house. She was very glad that she had chosen to wear one of her winter underskirts as there was a strong breeze coming down from the mountains adding to the already chilly weather.

Rose sat back and relaxed as the carriage lurched into motion promising herself that tonight would be a night for relaxation and enjoyment, and no stray thoughts of men or husbands would interfere with that.

The setting sun trailed its golden hues across the roofs and trees and gave off a warm glow, softly illuminating the inside of the carriage. The city was truly beautiful in the warm light of the sunset.

When they arrived, they were greeted with the sight of a four-story building with other carriages and their immaculately groomed horses dropping off dapper gentlemen and pretty ladies all dressed in rich fabrics.

As the group passed in, they went by many of the guests who had paused in the hallways or in side-rooms to converse before the start of the show. They continued on, wanting to get good seats and managed to get the third row from the front.

Rose sat on the inside, followed by Martha, Clara, Sally and lastly by Larry. Rose admired the room’s atmospheric red and silver furnishings and many flickering candles before perusing the program for the night which had been left on every seat.

When the last of the other guests filed slowly in and took their seats their host Lady Santini Khadenim, a tall and self-assured woman called for silence and introduced the musicians and the program for the night.

The music was magical.

Rose closed her eyes and let her heart soar with the music. Her spirits flew free to follow the intricate melodies of the string quartet. Even the gradual darkening of the piece could not shake her delight. The beauty of the mournful finish resonated within her and when the last evocative chord faded away, she sat silent for a few moments.

“That was absolutely beautiful, was it not?” she gushed.

“Indeed, it was,” agreed Martha.

They rose to their feet with the other guests for the intermission which offered a chance to mingle with each other and have some food.

Rose placed some aperitifs on one of the small plates and let her eyes wander around the room. There were several handsome men in attendance tonight. No, she told herself. While her plan to find a husband was still very much non-existent, tonight was not the night to dwell on that problem.

“I pray you are not hoping to find a husband among those gentlemen?” came a malicious retort from beside her.

Rose turned and once again found Lady Cassandra standing before her. She wore a deep purple dress with a pink flower pinned to her bodice.

As Rose held her ground, she was painfully aware of the other woman's close proximity, determined that Rose would not pass her without some sort of verbal altercation. Rose looked into her face. She was a handsome enough woman and carried a certain elegance, but that elegance was marred by a coarseness in her manner and her eyes betrayed the truth of her nature. They were small and calculating, deep and dangerous, and ever watchful.

“So what if I am?” Rose retorted.

“Surely your little incident with Lord Mitchell taught you something? Even if you had a substantial fortune attached to your name, once you open your mouth no one would have you,” Cassandra sneered. “No, I know all about you Lady Tyler, you are too opinionated by half. Men want a woman who will follow where they lead, not one who questions her husband’s wisdom and ignores the house and the servants because she is too busy doing what she wants.”

“But surely there is a man who wishes an intelligent wife; someone with whom he can converse.”

Cassandra barked out a derisive laugh. “At such time as you find him you are welcome to marry him. But I do not see you in pursuit of such a man, nor is he in pursuit of you.”

Three tall and rather intimidating courtiers appeared behind Cassandra. Rose eyed them apprehensively.

Cassandra smiled cruelly, revelling in Rose’s sudden discomfort.

“May I introduce my companions Blon, Sip, and Jocrassa FelFotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen, of the Pasameer-Day branch of the Slitheen.”

Rose’s disquiet only grew at hearing those names. These were Raxacoricofallapatorians, the native peoples to the kingdom of Raxacoricofallapatorius, though many used Slitheen in referring to the inhabitants.

The Slitheen were an excessively tall race of people, each and every one of them were at least six feet tall, including the women. As a people they tended to be somewhat plumb and rotund with infantile faces, with long forearms and powerful hands. Instinctive hunters trained to kill at a young age, the Slitheen were a ruthless people whose main motivation was always profit.

The fact that Lady Cassandra was keeping company with such people did not bode well.

Rose made to leave.

Lady Cassandra's eyes narrowed, and her lips curled.

"Leaving so soon, Lady Tyler? I hope it is not because of something I have said."

"Not at all, Lady O’Brien. Please step out of my way. I do not think we have anything further to say to each other."

Lady Cassandra gave her a long measuring look and then she smiled, a calculating gleam lighting her eyes.

"Of course," she said, tapping Rose's arm with her fan, "Do not let me detain you."

"Good evening."

Rose returned to her friends for the second half and did her best to pretend that nothing was wrong. But she could not shake the feeling of disquiet that blossomed within her. She had most certainly made an enemy of Lady Cassandra and that woman was not about to leave Rose alone.

Rose needed to be careful, one wrong move and Lady Cassandra would pounce and tear her to shreds.

Rose was relieved when the show was finished. She had not heard any of the second half she was so lost in her thoughts. She was very glad to get back to the palace and to the safety of her rooms. Far away from Lady Cassandra and her malicious eyes.

***


	8. The Plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem

As autumn turned to winter the weather grew ever colder and more unsettled.

Rose had seen her first snow fall which had delighted her to no end. A thick layer of snow had fallen over night and once Rose was all bundled up with a thick underskirt, long coat, scarf, gloves, and hat, she had ventured out. The snow was a lot wetter than she had imagined but she loved it. Better still was the snowball fight which broke out between the five friends.

That was their only chance for fun in the snow as the following day the weather turned blustery and wet and remained unsettled for a number of weeks.

When the long a-waited for break in the weather arrived, Rose decided to go riding. She had not been out in far too long and she missed it. The rush of the wind through her hair, the feel of power from the horse beneath her, and the freedom of giving the horse its head and letting it gallop across the fields.

She had Raffalo pull out her jade green riding habit and once ready she set off, with a bounce in her step despite the cold, for the stables.

The stables were in the eastern side of the place and over seen by a formidable man. The head groomsman, Captain Reynolds, was a gruff man, however, according to everyone he was remarkable with the horses, a real horse whisperer if the rumour mill was to be believed.

Rose arrived at the stables the smell of hay and horse reaching her before she entered. She perused the many stalls, with horses and ponies of all sizes and colours, for a horse to take out.

A young stable hand followed close behind her, a worried frown creasing his forehead. Rose was narrowing down her choice when a gruff call stopped her in her tracks. A tall man with salt and pepper hair and short beard marched towards her.

“What’re you doing?”

Rose raised an eyebrow at his demanding tone.

“I am picking out a horse. What does it look like?”

“You’ll do no such thing. Not without my say so.”

Both of Rose’s eyebrows raised up this time in amazed disbelief at his blatant disregard for propriety and rank. He seemed to realise his mistake because he added a forced “milady” after a tense pause.

After ascertaining Rose’s skill and riding competence he picked out a mare for her to take out. Rose wanted to get the horse ready herself, but Reynolds flatly refused. Rose opened her mouth to argue with him that she maybe a Baroness, but she was well capable of brushing down and tacking up a horse when she was interrupted by Captain Jack Harkness.

“You will never win that argument, Baroness Tyler. Trust me.”

Rose turned and threw him a look of chagrin, however, there was nothing in his face to suggest he was mocking her. On the contrary, he looked sincere. “Is that so, Captain Harkness?”

“Indeed, I have been having those arguments with Reynolds since I was a boy. I doubt even the King himself could win. Is that not right, Reynolds?”

“Hrumph!” was the only reply he received before Reynolds began barking orders at the stable hands.

“Forgive my intrusion, Baroness Tyler,” Jack said and bowed.

“Not at all,” Rose replied and bowed in return.

“I was just about to head out myself, would you like some company?”

Rose tried to hide her surprise at his offer. “Oh, I would not want to slow you down, Captain Harkness.”

“Nonsense, I would not offer unless I meant it,” Jack gave her a dashing smile.

Rose considered him for a few moments before at last replying, “Well if that is the case then I would be delighted.”

“Excellent!” The Captain gave her another broad grin.

Jack went and mounted his horse and waited outside for Rose.

When she was mounted Jack brought his horse alongside her dancing mare, who was eager to be off after being in for so long because of the weather.

"Shall we go?"

The pair took their time warming the horses up around the paddock before setting off on the ride proper. They were accompanied by two stable hands, one male, one female, for propriety’s sake.

The day was pleasant, and the sun was out with small gusts of wind that billowed out the skirt of Rose's riding habit and loosened tendrils of hair about her face.

She was deeply conscious of her companion as he rode beside her, letting his body roll easily with the surge of the powerful mount beneath him.

Jack stole his own admiring glance at his companion. She rode well, assured, elegant and in control.

They made their way down through the city, which was surprisingly busy with many of the citizens taking advantage of the fine weather, and out into the valley.

After some time riding, they stopped to rest the horses by a small lake beyond a grassy slope, dismounting and leaving their mounts to graze on the damp tuffs of grass by the water’s edge. They strolled along the bank, the gentle warmth of the sun shining down on them keeping away the worst of the cold.

As they came across a small corpse of trees nestled next to one of the many small tributary streams that flowed into the Tempus river and Jack called a halt to their small party.

“This is a lovely spot to set up for lunch.”

“Is this where you bring all the girls, Captain?” Rose said mischievously.

“But of course,” Jack replied with equal gaiety.

From seemingly nowhere the stable hands produced a small basket of food and set up a modest picnic.

Loosening his jacket, the Captain placed a blanket on the ground and sat beneath the tree, leaning his back against the trunk, and draping one arm over his raising knee.

His relaxed manner and ease with which he joined in the laughter and light-hearted banter put Rose at her ease.

“When I was a young boy all the children of the court used to have a race to see who could climb this tree the fastest.”

Rose looked up at the large tree with its many strong and sturdy limbs. “Oh, that would have been fun.”

Jack laughed, “Indeed it was, fun and dangerous.”

“Ah,” Rose scoffed, “If the branches were as strong in your day-”

“My day!” Jack gasped a hand over his heart.

“Yes, your day! If they were as sturdy now as they were the then there would have been little danger of the branches breaking.”

“You speak with the voice of experience,” Jack teased.

“Because I am,” Rose countered.

“Nonsense,” Jack said teased, taking on a nasally, snobbish voice, “Young ladies of repute do not go around climbing trees!”

"And what may I ask, is so very wrong with girls climbing trees?" Rose remarked with mock indignation, laughter lighting up her eyes. "I will have you know that as a girl I climbed some very impressive trees."

"And fell out of several, I'll wager."

"I did too," she confessed, "and I had the bruises to prove it."

"That does not surprise me in the slightest."

"And are you telling me you never fell out of any trees as a child?"

"I never said that."

"But nor are you going to confirm it?"

"No."

"Have it your way, Captain. But your silence speaks for itself."

“Do not let it,” the Captain said cheekily. Leaning towards Rose, he lowered his voice. “I am a man of many talents and you should not doubt me so.”

“You are incorrigible,” Rose chuckled.

“It is true,” Jack sighed. “But a little incorrigibility makes life so much more fun! And happily, there is a bit in you too.”

Rose laughed heartily. She had to admit to herself that she really did like Jack. She could see why he was a court favourite.

They finished their lunch and set off on the return journey which passed with the same easy flow of conversation and banter as before.

~~*~~

It was several days after her outing with the Captain that Rose had another encounter with Lady Cassandra. They greeted and parted each other with their now customary angry words and barbed comments, however, there was something about Lady Cassandra countenance, an increased smugness, that irked Rose.

It irked her enough to begin to think that all was not right, that maybe Lady Cassandra was involved in or planning something she should not be. It did not take Rose long to make a decision to find out if, and more likely what, Cassandra was up to.

Rose was not entirely sure what it was that made her suspicious, but there was just something off. Maybe it was Cassandra’s sauntering walk in her red dress and purple flower, the knowing smile, or the smug glint in her eyes. Whatever it was, Lady Cassandra was up to no good and Rose was going to find out what it was.

Rose had kept an eye on her all day and now, with the light of the setting sun casting a yellow-orange glow over all it touched, Rose felt it was time. Time for what she did not know but something was going to happen, Rose just knew it and she was going to be there when it did.

Her inquisitive side, her tendency to wander off and go investigating, as Mickey had called it, had taken over. While Mickey had also said that it was a tendency that would one day get her into trouble, Rose hoped that that day had not come yet.

Staying as far back as she could, Rose shadowed Cassandra. The art of tailing someone did not appear to be a skill that Rose possessed and she received more than a few sceptical and disapproving looks from members of the court as she strove for a casual ‘I’m not up to anything’ look. Her lack of skill also resulted in a number of panicked moments where she lost sight of Cassandra and a one particularly heart stopping moment when Cassandra doubled back and almost spotted Rose. In that moment Rose was eternally grateful for the presence of so many tall stone statues around the castle and hoped that her breath could not be seen in the cold winter air.

With a thumping heart and sweating palms Rose crept through a side door and out into the heavily wooded section of the castle grounds, keeping Cassandra in view the whole time and being careful not to step on anything that would alert Cassandra to her presence. Prey and hunter made their way along the winding tree lined paths and at last they arrived at their destination. Cassandra continued on and Rose slipped into the cover of undergrowth which was mercifully evergreen and still had thick foliage.

A short and stout woman waited for Cassandra next to an old and dilapidated shed.

“Is the merchandise safe?” Cassandra enquired sharply as soon as she was next to the other woman.

“Yes, the flowers are secured,” the other woman said.

“Shhh!” Cassandra hissed.

“What?” quizzed the woman with equal terseness.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, don’t worry so much. Nobody’s around.”

Cassandra did not look pleased to be spoken to in such a manner, but she held her tongue.

“We shall need to distribute the new batch though,” continued the woman.

“That will be acceptable, however, we will wait another couple of days before doing so. Jocrassa tells me one of the guards is getting suspicious.”

“Do we need to worry?”

“No, he’s taking care of it.”

“Good.”

“Ah, here are the others. Well met, Slitheens.”

Rose’s brow furrowed as she listened and watched. They seemed awfully protective and focused on those flowers, she thought. They all seemed to be wearing them too. What was that about? There was something suspicious about those flowers. But what did they mean?

With the addition of three more figures the group moved closer to the shed in a tight huddle and away from Rose.

Rose cursed as she was no longer able to make out what they were saying. With slow and careful steps Rose made her way to the side of the building. But her timing was all off because no sooner had she gotten herself into a comfortable spot then the clandestine meeting ended, and they moved off in their different directions. Rose realising that two of the Slitheen men were heading directly for her hiding place, scrabbled backward tripping over the ends of her dress and hit the ground with a loud ‘umph’.

“What was that?” one of the Slitheen’s asked sharply.

“What was what?”

“I heard sometin’ from over there.”

Rose fumbled to her feet, almost tripping again in her haste and dove into the undergrowth a few feet away, curling up into a small ball, trying to make herself as small as possible.

She could make out the feet and lower legs of the pair as they approached through the thinner branches at the bottom of the shrubs. She covered her mouth with her hand to quieten her breathing.

“I didn’t hear anything. You sure you’re hearing right? Ow! That hurt!”

With their minor scuffle over the men seemed to decide that there was nothing going on and so they continued on their way.

Rose breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they were at last out of sight. She clambered out of her hiding spot and made her way back to her rooms; she was so lost in her thoughts that she had no memory of actually getting there.

They were planning something. But what? Nothing good, that was for sure. Could they be plotting against the kingdom, against the King? She had to tell someone. Tell who, though? No one would believe her. She was just some Baroness from the countryside. It was her word against a Countess and the Slitheens. No one would believe her, even if it was the truth.

She dared not even tell her friends. What would they say? Would they laugh and call her mad or reluctantly believe her? What if she put them in danger? No, she could not tell even them.

Slumped on her couch, Rose bit her lower lip in a nervous gesture; her thoughts circling in a self-doubting spiral.

What she needed was proof, then she could tell someone. She could not go straight to the King, but maybe she could go to Jack. If she had the proof, he would listen to her. But how would she get the evidence? Cassandra’s plan revolved around the flowers she wore. But what did those flowers mean? How did they fit into the whole plan?

“Are you well, milady?” Raffalo asked with concern, having just arrived.

Rose waved at her absentmindedly. “Fine. I am Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Erm... Raffalo, you know a bit about flowers, do you not?”

“I know a little, milady. It’s my cousin who’s an expert. He runs his own business.” The last past of her statement was said with some pride.

“His own business? Your family must be proud of him.”

“Oh, they are. I used to have a book with me that details flower meanings as a child, but I lost it. But I’m sure if you send him a letter and some samples of the flowers that he would help.”

“That would be acceptable to him?”

“Of course, I’m sure he would have no issue with that at all. I can send him a letter first if you want?”

“I would be very grateful.”

With that sorted Rose turned her attention to the next problem. If she needed samples of the flowers that would mean she would be going back to the stash. It would be too difficult to get them during the day but if she when at night she would have a good chance of not being caught.

It was a few days before she had a chance to try and get the flowers. Once night fell, she put on a dark coloured work dress and tied her hair up to keep it out of her eyes.

To say that she was nervous was an understatement. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought that it might burst from her chest and her palms seemed to have grown permanently clammy.

Despite her anxiety she gathered her courage and made a slow and careful decent through the castle. She was extra wary of not being spotted, especially since she did not know everyone who was in league with Cassandra and she did not want Cassandra alerted. She made her way to the ground floor with little issue, using the servants’ corridors and less used halls.

Her luck did not last, for when she reached the gardens there several large groups meandering about the place. Rose cursed the endless number balls and gatherings that took place in the palace even in mid-winter.

It took Rose what seemed like an eternity to make her way through the grounds – she had to go the long way around to avoid the crowds and even then, there were courtiers’ tumbling into her path. In the end she was forced to clamber into the undergrowth which slowed down her progress even more, particularly given the uneven terrain and the myriad of overgrown plants and branches that she kept getting entangled in.

Once or twice she was forced to stop suddenly and crouch down to avoid being seen or heard.

At long last though the building came into sight and it was mercifully deserted.

Rose gave a quick prayer of thanks to the Goddesses. She hoisted open the door, wincing at the sound of the screeching hinges. She glanced around in worry, but no one appeared.

Slipping inside she paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Once she was confident that she would not collide with anything she crept along the edge of the walls and then over to the pile of boxes which stood in the centre.

Carefully opening each box in turn, she took two samples from each and carefully wrapped and pocketed them before making her way back to her rooms.

The journey back through the gardens was quicker this time and she spent less time fighting her way through the undergrowth.

Rose slipped back inside the castle and breathed a sigh of relief; she had the flowers and had not been spotted.

However, her relief was short lived as she rounded a corner on the first floor and came face to face with two patrolling guards.

The guards approached her; brows furrowed.

“Are you alright, milady?” one of the guards asked.

“Yes, thank you. I am quite well.”

“It is quite late for a woman of your station to be out,” a note of concern laced his voice.

“Oh, I eh... I know it is late, but I could not sleep and thought a brisk walk in the gardens to clear my head would do me some good.”

“And has it?”

“What?”

“Has the walk done you any good?”

“Oh! Yes, yes it has.”

There was an awkward pause before Rose broke the silence. “You know what? I am feeling quite tried.” She gave a large yawn to prove her point. “I think I will head straight to my rooms and turn in for the night.”

The two guards bowed. “Right you are, milady. Have a good night.”

Rose nodded at them and moved off as quickly as she could without arousing any suspicion, the small bunch of flowers tucked safely under her coat.

~~*~~

The next day Raffalo showed her how to press and preserve the flowers for postage. Rose wrote her letter to Stewart, Raffalo’s cousin, detailing everything she could, including the sequence that she had seen Lady Cassandra wearing the flowers in the hopes that that would help Stewart with their meaning.

The week of the Winter Festival arrived while they waited for a reply and Rose was glad of the distraction it brought with it.

The Festival was held for one-week mid-winter every two years. There streets were decorated in a myriad of candles and torches making the entire city twinkle and flicker, banners fluttering overhead, and elegant window displays in shops. Stalls were setup throughput the city selling all manner of winter goods, both practical, like tools and clothing, and novelty, like toys.

There were winter games like ice carving demonstrations, an ice fishing competition, and a snowball tournament held in the royal pastures. There was even a tobogganing race held on the mountain slopes to the west of the city. The tobogganing was a favourite of the city’s children who flocked to the mountains daily and a small market had been setup there to cater for all the visitors. Every evening for the week there was music, food, treats and plenty of merrymaking.

They received the reply to Raffalo’s request a week after the Festival, which considering the distance that it had to travel was record timing. Rose was very glad that she had spent the extra money on sending Raffalo’s letter express.

Just as Raffalo had said Stewart had no problems helping them and Rose’s letter and the flowers were sent that evening. After that there was nothing left to do except wait, which was not something Rose found very easy.

It was a further four weeks, winter turning to spring and the anniversary of Rose’s arrival at court passing, before the reply arrived.

“Oh milady,” Raffalo called excitedly one morning, “My cousin’s reply just arrived.”

“Thanks, Raff. I’ll look at it in a moment,” Rose called from her room and once dressed she went to open the letter with palpable excitement and trembling fingers.

_“Dear Baroness Tyler,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I have enclosed two separate sheets within, the first detailing the individual flower meaning and the second with, together with your sequence and data, a possible meaning and/or message._

_I must advise you that the second sheet makes for unsettling reading._

_Please pass on my best wishes to my cousin._

_Yours Faithfully,_

_Stewart Crespal”_

Rose was highly curious but now also somewhat worried. She opened the first page which read:

_“Aster – Patience_

_Forsythia – Anticipation,_

_Oleander – Caution,_

_Monkshood – Beware; A Deadly Foe is Near,_

_Magnolia – Nobility,_

_Poppy – General – Eternal Sleep; Oblivion.”_

With furrowed brow Rose moved on to the second page with some trepidation.

_“Below is my best estimation of the message being communicated with these flowers._

_The aster looks as if it is intermediary flower, perhaps saying for them to ‘lay low.’_

_The forsythia gives the impression that something will happen soon, possibly ‘be ready.’_

_The oleander looks like it is indicating that something is or is about to happen and to be careful._

_The monkshood appears to be some sort of warning, perhaps if someone is getting suspicious of them._

_However, it is the magnolia and poppy which give me the most concern. When their meanings are combined, they seem to indicate the death of a noble person and the only one I can think of to warrant such secrecy and clandestine methods is the King._

_Lady Tyler, I fear they mean to kill the King. Make haste and warn his Majesty of this threat._

_May the Gods and Goddesses protect you and his Majesty._

_Stewart Crespal_

“Oh no,” Rose gasped.

“What? What is it?” Raffalo asked, utterly perplexed.

“No,” Rose groaned and looked up from the letter with an expression of fear and shock. “I have to find Captain Jack,” she said and tore from the room; the letter clutched tightly in her right hand and bunches of her skirt in her other hand so she could run faster.

What a sight she must have be, she thought, as she flew down corridor after corridor making her way down to the ground floor, practically knocking people out of the way. The King would be in the Throne Room and the Captain would not be far from him.

She skidded to a halt outside the door, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. She pushed in the door and frantically scanned the surprisingly crowded room for Jack. There! She spied the back of his head and speedily treaded her way through the crowd, with many a harried ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me.’ over to the Captain.

“Captain, may I have a word?” Rose managed to huff out between hurried breaths.

“Huh? Oh, Lady Tyler,” Jack turned and grinned once he saw who it was. “To what do I own this pleasure?” he smirked.

“Captain, if I could have a word. In private.”

He frowned as he took in her haggard appearance - her flyaway hair, flushed cheeks, quick and strained breaths, and the tense look on her face.

“Yes, of course. We can talk through here,” he gestured to a door on the left of the room and led the way to it with Rose following close on his heels.

The room was small and cramped with old disused furniture dominating the space.

Once he closed the door behind them, he turned to her, a serious and concerned expression on his face, “So Lady Rose, what is wrong?”

“It is eh, it is the King. He is in danger.”

Jack’s shock at her statement was clearly evident, whatever he had been expecting her to say, that the King was in danger was not one of them. He nodded for her to continue.

Rose took a deep, calming breath and told him the story - about the plot, how she had learned of it, how she had put all the pieces together and finally she showed him the letter. At first, he looked incredulous and disbelieving and nearly laughed when she struggled to say that they had been communicating using flowers. However, by the time she showed him the letter he had grown quiet and a grave look had drawn across his face with a tightness about his jaw.

Jack gazed down at the letter for some time before looking up from it and taking a deep breath of his own. There was a look in his eyes that Rose had never seen before. Gone was the normal happiness, the playfulness, and the flirtatious gleam; in its place was a cold steely glint that belied a hidden rage.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention; you have done the kingdom a great service.”

His tone and manner held a finality, indicating that her part was done. Rose scrambled, “But Jack, I want to help.”

Jack shook his head, “No, I will take it from here.”

“But-” Rose tried to interject, however, Jack had already stridden to the door and called out, “Alfonso.”

A young man with short brown hair barely older than Rose quickly appeared.

“Captain?” he said

“Find Ianto and gather the men.”

“Sir?”

“We’ve got a situation; tell them to meet outside the Throne Room but not to go in until I get there. We must not panic the courtiers.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good lad,” Jack clapped him on the shoulder before turning once more to Rose. He waited until Alfonso had closed the door before speaking. “I need you to stay out of this. “

“What? Why?” Rose questioned stubbornly.

“Rose, you may be a courtier, but these are serious accusations. You are only a Baroness and you are making allegations against higher ranking peers. Not only that, but your family name does not have much weight against the names of those you are implicating.”

Frustration gnawed at Rose, “But it is the truth!”

“I know and I believe you,” Jack said reassuringly placing a hand on her shoulder. “But others may not believe you. They may think that you are spreading rumours to advance your standing or to get revenge.”

Rose was about to object to that as well, but he cut her off before she got a word out. “That is not what you are doing, I know. But it could be seen in such a light particularly by gossip scavenging courtiers. Just keep a low profile until this evening. I will speak to the King myself and tell him the truth but until then stay out of it. Alright?”

Rose huffed in vexation but relented, “I will.”

“Good. Thank you, Rose, by bringing this to me you have saved the King’s life. That is something that will not be forgotten.”

He bowed to her, kissed her hand, and swiftly left the room.

Rose did as she was promised and stayed out of the way, however, she did not go far. She wanted to know what happened. As the hours slipped by with irritating slowness Rose began to worry that nothing would happen, that the King would not believe Jack, that he would not believe her.

But then the whispers started, of the King leaving the Throne Room early, cancelling appointments, of the increase d presence of guards, of the disappearance of many courtiers – they were there one minute and the next they were gone, always coinciding with an influx of soldiers. Something was going on the court concluded and they were desperate to find out what it was.

Men and women flitted from the gardens to the palace, from floor to floor, room to room, group to group, all whispering, all gossiping, all wondering.

There were only two people in the lower north salon who knew what was going on, Rose thought, herself and the woman she was now watching.

To everyone else she must look the same as ever, perhaps a little paler than usual but who wouldn’t be faint with excitement with all this gossip and drama. Nevertheless, Rose saw the other signals – a tense jaw, the repeated clenching and unclenching of her hands, the stress induced flush of her cheeks. Oh yes, Lady Cassandra was well aware of the noose that was slowly tightening around her neck. And Rose could not be happier about it.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting the doors to the room opened once more and a steward announced the King who entered the room, followed by Jack and a band of guards.

Rose glanced at Cassandra, who despite being on the far side of the room had spotted the King and his entourage as well; she had gone rigid with tension and was as white as fresh snow.

The King and his group moved through the crowd which parted quickly as if sensing the imminent drama.

They came to halt in front of Lady Cassandra.

Novem stared at her in silence for some minutes. His eyes were a warm blue, but they studied Cassandra without a hint of emotion, no compassion, distain, or condescension spoiled his visage. Only a brief flare of his nostrils indicated that he had any life at all.

It was a horribly awkward silence for everyone, except the King it appeared. He stared down at her with an impassive and neutral expression while she had no idea where to look. Her eyes darted everywhere except his face. After a torturous length of time, the King stepped away and Jack stepped forwards.

Jack’s voice, with his western Gallifrey inflection, rumbled in his chest loud and clear for every courtier to hear.

“Lady Cassandra O’Brien you have been charged with conspiracy to kill the King. How do you plead?”

As one the courtiers drew breath, their eyes alight with dark mischievousness.

“Me?” Cassandra simpered. “How could I do such a thing? Why would I want to do it in the first place?”

The crowd remained deadly silent, not even a gasp escaped lest they miss something.

“Enough with the lies! We have proof and your co-conspirators!”

Cassandra began to splutter and shake. “I wouldn’t! They made me!”

Two guards stepped forward and took her by the arms, “No! They made me! They forced me! I had no choice!”

The guards began to drag her away while she continued to lie and plead.

Novem turned and Rose suddenly found the King’s eyes fixed on hers, clear and unnervingly blue.

“Baroness Rosabel Tyler, the crown thanks you for your loyalty.”

He then turned and left the room leaving Rose to face the incessant and hawkish gaze of all the courtiers.

She went bright red.

Jack came to her rescue though and ushered her out the door after the King.

They were barely out the door when Rose heard the room erupt into conversation.

Rose trotted after Jack and soon found herself standing in the King’s Throne Room, empty save for them, with the King’s gaze unashamedly appraising her.

“So, Jack tells me you are the one to uncover all this,” he said making his way over to sit on the throne.

“Yes, your Majesty. I did.”

“Well I have heard Jack’s version, now I want to hear your account.”

Rose, somewhat uncertain, looked over at Jack who nodded encouragingly at her and she began her tale.

Novem leaned forward as she spoke, taking in every word she said.

“And the letter arrived this morning. Once I saw the meanings of the flowers and the fact that some of them were from Raxa-, Raxa-” Rose trailed off as she struggled to pronounce the name.

“Are you sure it was her,” Novem said with a sarcastic tone to Jack. “She cannot even say Raxacoricofallapatorius.”

“I can to!” she said indignantly. “Raxa....Raxa....Raxa....Raxacoricofallapatorius.” She beamed when she finally managed to pronounce the word, “See?”

Jack laughed and even the King broke into a small smile.

Rose realised she very much liked his smile. It changed his whole face making him look younger, showing off his cheekbones creating a more striking and aristocratic face.

“Very well, very well. I will believe you,” he sat back again and considered her. “So, this is how it happened?”

Rose nodded.

“Well, Baroness Rosabel Tyler as I said before the crown thanks you.”

“It was nothing, your Majesty.”

“You saved my life Lady Tyler, that is not nothing.” His tone was stern, so stern that Rose looked up in surprise, which was a mistake because now she was trapped by his intense gaze.

“Such an act will have to be rewarded. What do you desire? Name it and it will be yours.” After a brief paused and he added lightly, “Within reason mind.”

“Nothing, your Majesty. I desire nothing.” And it was true, in that moment there was nothing that she wanted that the King could give.

“Come now, there must be something.”

Rose bit her lip and thought. Perhaps, perhaps there was something. “Money.”

“Money?” Novem questioned, although he did not look surprised.

“Yes, to be sent back home to my mother. She will need it.” The last part Rose said to herself and under her breath, but apparently it was not quiet enough because both the King and Jack gave small smiles. Rose found her cheeks getting uncomfortably warm again.

Noven looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “That is all, money for your mother. There is nothing else?”

“No. At least, nothing that you can give.”

Novem gave her a knowing look and Rose found herself blushing.

“Very well, I will have the funds sent to your mother. She will receive them by week’s end.”

“Thank you, your Majesty.”

Novem nodded and gave her a wave of dismissal.

She bowed and Jack flashed her a pleased smile as she turned to leave.

When the door closed behind her Rose felt the adrenaline of the day suddenly leave her and she felt exhausted, her knees almost buckling beneath her.

She made her way gingerly back to her rooms, avoiding the main thoroughfare. The King had outed her to half the court, and by now the whole court would have found out, and they would undoubtedly want to know every last detail. Being caught and cornered by gossip seeking courtiers was not something she wanted or needed, not now or ever.

Thankfully, she reached the sanctuary of her rooms without meeting anyone. She went straight to her bedroom and throw herself onto the bed, groaning out loud. What a day. What would the others say?

Rose groaned again. Oh Goddess, how was she going to explain it to Martha and the others.

***


	9. The Summer Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem

The furore over Lady Cassandra, the assassination plot, and Rose’s part in uncovering it carried on for weeks. As predicted, she was hounded wherever she went for the first couple of weeks. Overnight she had a meteoric rise through the social ranks and suddenly became someone of import, that people wanted to talk to and be seen talking to.

Rose’s friends were just as astonished as everyone else and a little miffed that she had not told them. Their irritation did not last too long though, and they were drawn into the adventure and conspiracy of it all.

As the weeks went by new intrigues and fresh gossip took hold of the court and Rose’s popularity dwindled with the changing seasons. Not that she minded, it was a nice reprieve from the constant questions and incessant whispers that had followed her.

The beginning of summer heralded the Summer Games which occurred at the start of summer every two years, alternating years with the Winter Festival. The Games incorporated many exciting tournaments and sports, an extensive market, and, by and large, was a week of entertainment and leisure. The main events were held on the first day which lasted from dawn until dusk, and often well into the night; with smaller events throughout the rest of the week.

The Games were held in the Royal Pasture, in the many acres of royal meadows and grazing land which lay to the east, between the city and the mountains.

It was a clear day, the sky a bright blue and the sun was pleasantly warm when Rose and the others made their way down to the Pasture, marvelling at the spectacle as they went. The city was decorated with banners and flags, and freshly potted plants adorned every surface. The city’s inhabitants were laughing and joking, all talking about the Games as they headed out to the fields. Men rode by on fine thoroughbred horses, colourful and elaborately clad women ambled passed, and excited children ran about. The sheer number of travellers, traders, participants, and fellow spectators was astonishing.

Clara insisted on picnicking away from the crowds of people who poured into the Pasture and through to the cordoned areas. The group found the perfect spot sitting on a small grassy hill in the shade of giant fire oaks; a white cloth was spread on the ground on which baskets of food were unpacked.

Excitement hummed through the air, as the group laughed and joked and waited for the Games to begin. From their position on the hill they would have a good view.

A hush descended on the crowd nearest the central arena and spread outwards as the King, standing on a dais, welcomed everyone and officially opened the Games.

Rose had not seen the King since the afternoon Lady Cassandra was arrested and she was quite glad that she and the others were some distance away. She did not feel up to being scrutinised once more by those blue eyes.

The archery competition was first. It was a quiet yet tense affair that had competitors and spectators alike hushed and focused. It ended in a nerve-racking tiebreak with the two finalists matching each other shot for shot until at last someone made a mistake, and a winner was declared.

The archery contest was followed by the ring toss, an entirely different and more raucous event with much whooping and hollering from the crowd.

A little later there was a flurry of excitement when Captain Jack Harkness appeared on his dappled grey stallion. The Captain, as always, set many female and a fair few male hearts a flutter. The arrival of the Captain heralded the beginning of the jousting completion which was quite terrifying - the speed of the charging horses, the crunch of wooden lances splintered on contact with metal armour, and the tumble of a fallen competitor and the gasp from the crowd. Captain Jack, unsurprisingly, came first but second place was awarded to a young newcomer from the far east of the kingdom.

There was a short break after the jousting to give the attendants time to set up for the horse races.

Taking advantage of the pause in activity Rose tilted her head back slowly and surreptitiously, directly into the path of the afternoon sun. Though it was not the most lady like, Rose loved the warmth of the sun on her face, the burst of patterned radiance behind her closed eyelids, the brush of the breeze on her warm cheeks.

It took her back, for a few seconds she was a girl again, in her father’s arms, giggling like mad while he spun her round and his laugh washed over her.

Memories she had long thought forgotten resurfaced. How long ago her father had talked to her of the Capital while the sat nestled together on the couch in his study. He had talked of great houses, elaborate tournaments and events, a sparkling palace, and the noisy, chaotic workings of the royal court, where the fates of men and women and kingdoms were decided. He had spun fanciful stories of her own future visits to the great city, and she had eagerly absorbed every tale.

But he had died before his stories could come true and Rose’s busy and happy childhood had been abandoned for more sober duties of helping to run a household with little money.

~~*~~

It had been some time since Novem had been on a day out and had had a chance to relax, and the Summer Games provided a perfect opportunity to do both.

He stood on a dais in a cordoned off area and scanned the crowd, watching over those gathered. It was a time for all - courtiers, ordinary folk, and servants - to enjoy.

He was lost in his thoughts when a flash of blue caught his eye.

It was a woman, dressed in a delightful light blue dress with a wide sash of darker blue tied in a bow at the back, on which his attention focused. He looked at the sunlight glinting on the golden strands of her hair. Her feet were tucked under her dress, her face upturned to the sky. She looked about twenty, though her figure was mature. She was watching the riders who had just entered the arena causing much excitement among the crowd.

~~*~~

The races were exhilarating. Rose and the others watched with bated breath as the competitors hurtle at breakneck speeds around the track towards the finishing line. Not all participants made it and there was one terrifying moment when a rider fell off his mount and right into the path of the other competitors. There was a collective gasp from the crowd and more than one person cried out when the rider fell, but thankfully he managed to escape with only minor injuries.

The day moved on and it was soon time for the equestrian vaulting. Riders entered the arena and preformed a selection of daring and acrobatic manoeuvres and an assortment of synchronised performances. Some even brought their dogs in to the arena and performed tricks and feats of agility.

Lastly, it was the turn of the acrobats who performed many incredible feats as well as death-defying aerial stunts eliciting many gasps and cheers from the crowd.

There were a number of accidents throughout the day, the medical staff always on hand to treat and in a number of cases stretcher off the injured. Martha, given her medical knowledge, elaborated quite a few times on what was happening when anyone asked.

At the other side of the arena areas were being set up for the animal shows, including horses, dogs and all manner of livestock, that would be held over the following days.

The main part of the day ended with the conclusion of the acrobatic show and with the highlight of the day over the group left the shade of the fire oaks to wander through the market.

The stalls stretched out across the field in a seemingly endless manner. There were tables overflowing with delicious and succulent smelling foods from every corner of the kingdom and even beyond its borders, stalls with all manner of trinkets, and others with rare and exotic plants.

Rose stopped to admire a particularly fine and delicately crafted pocket watch with the intricate circular script of ancient Gallifrey carved on the outside. She spent a bit too much time admiring the watch and soon lost track of the rest of her group.

Rose meandered through the boisterous crowd trying to find Martha and the others when she stopped suddenly, a cold prickling feeling trickling down the back of her neck. She turned trying to figure out what had caused her to feel uneasy. It did not take her too long.

A broad-chested man stood not far from her, watching her too intently. As soon as Rose apprehended him, he broke his gaze, acting as if he had not been starring at her. Then a flurry of guests streamed between them and he vanished into the crowd. Only after he had disappeared had Rose realised who the man has been. It had been the King.

Perplexed by the strange encounter with the King, Rose wandered aimless around the stalls and ended up quite literally bumping into Larry causing much laughter from the group.

The first day of the Summer Games ended late in the evening when the setting sun forced many activities to stop. The night was young though and while the games had finished for the day the festivities and merriment had not. Where once there had been an arena there was now a dance area with many tables and benches encircling it and even more places to eat and drink at. Torches and fires were lit and soon the entire Pasture was flickering in the fire light. Spontaneous rounds of singing broke out and an outbreak of dancing soon followed.

Rose did not see the King again that night but a number of times she felt the same tingling at the back of her neck, like she was being watched.

After a long yet highly enjoyable day the group decided to retire for the night as the merriment began to turn to drunken rowdiness.

~~*~~

It was a week after the Summer Games before Rose and Martha found the time to properly meet up with each other again. The pair strolled down the tree lined path in the gardens each enjoying the summer sun.

From their brief encounters in the intervening days Rose had noticed that Martha had been in an unusually cheerful mood and Rose strongly suspected that it was a who, not a what, that was behind Martha’s good mood.

“Martha?”

“Hmm?”

“Has someone caught your eye?”

“Wwhat?” Martha faltered, becoming suddenly quite flustered. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, I do not know. Maybe your persistent good mood, the near constant smiling, or perhaps it is the humming.”

“Humming, what humming?”

“Well there has been an inordinate amount of humming coming from you. Ask Sally if you do not believe me.”

“Oh. Well, there is someone.”

“A beau?”

“Well, no, not exactly. We have only met four times. I mean, he has not said anything, but I do like him and....oh I do not know!”

Rose looked curiously at her, a glint in her eyes. "Martha, what is this? You aren't enamoured with him after just four encounters, surely?"

"Yes," she laughed at the idea. "I am indeed enamoured."

The pair lapsed into friendly silence before Rose gave Martha a wistful smile, “It has been too long since we last did this.”

Martha laced her arm through Rose’s. “I think we have both been so busy that the time has just slipped by. But I am very glad to see you now.”

“So, tell me more about this beau of yours,” Rose teased.

“He is not my beau,” Martha tried to counter but the side eye Rose gave her had them both falling into a fit of giggles.

“You must stop stalling and tell me,” Rose said excitedly, her eyes widening in anticipation.

“Well,” Martha went on conspiratorially, a pleased grin on her face, “He is very tall and handsome.”

“Of course.”

“He moves in all the right social circles and goes to all the parties.”

“Yes...” Rose smiled at her with inquisitive eyes.

The women had stopped their slow little walk around the gardens and gazed at the assortment of trees and shrubbery.

“He is been making eyes at me for quite some time now. And at the last ball we danced.”

“Oh Martha,” Rose whispered as she clasped Martha’s hands in hers. “That is wonderful. Do I get to know his name?”

Martha shook her head with a somewhat shy expression on her face. “No. But he should be attending Lady Jones’ ball next week and I will introduce you then. Alright?”

“Oh alright. You can keep your beau secret for now.” Rose grinned at Martha as they linked arms again and continued their walk.

They remained in companionable silence for some time before Martha spoke again in a curiously sober tone. “Rose I observed something interesting a number of weeks ago at the last ball we attended together.”

“How Sally and Larry only danced five dances together?” Rose asked facetiously, trying to defuse the unexpectedly serious tone Martha had adopted.

“No.” Her friend’s brow furrowed.

“Ohh, let me guess again. You observed .... the immense amount of alcohol consumed by the Duke of Manhattan?”

Martha rolled her eyes. “Well, I did notice that. I would wager he did not feel the best the following morning. But that was not what I meant. I observed the King, and he was watching you very closely.”

Rose was taken aback by the statement but quickly recovered. “I dare say he was only curious because of the assassination plot. I mean, it is not every day a young Baroness foils an assassination attempt, is it?”

“Mmhm,” Martha mused, thoroughly unconvinced.

“Martha, you cannot be serious!” Rose admonished with a smile.

“I am just saying what I observed, that is all. If that observation happens to lead to a certain conclusion that is not my problem,” Martha said with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, you are incorrigible!”

While she had refuted Martha’s words at the time Rose had spent a number of days mulling over what Martha had said to her about the King. Back and forth her mind had gone from outright dismissing the notion to hesitantly considering it, especially after the encounter at the Summer Games, and then back to dismissing it.

~~*~~

Lady Harriet Jones’ house, set in high up in the affluent Eastern District, was glowing with light from so many torches as the carriage drew up outside.

A liveried footman stepped aside as Rose and her friends made their way into the marbled-floored hall. Entering the drawing room, they paused, and Rose's eyes swept the assembled guests dressed in their finery, the ladies beautiful in fashionably cut silks and satins and the gentlemen in impeccably tailored suits.

The room was decorated with delicate ivory coloured material with a blue-and-bronze design, the colours reflected in the upholstery and the heavy curtains that hung on the windows and the expensive rugs that covered the floor.

"Rather splendid, is it not?" Rose said, still not quite believing she had managed to be invited to a ball at Lady Jones’ home, so far out of her social circle as it was.

"As usual," Sally answered. "It is what you expect at Lady Jones’ affairs."

The room was aglow with the dazzling radiance of myriad candles. Soft music could be heard in the background and for those guests who sought entertainment two adjoining rooms had been set aside for gaming.

~~*~~

Novem saw Rose the instant he entered the hall.

Jack followed the King’s gaze, interest lighting his eyes when he saw the delightful object of his friend's attention. "Is that absolutely divine creature Lady Tyler?”

"I believe so," Novem drawled drily. He knew exactly who it was, and Jack knew too but teased him anyway. How could he not remember the woman who had helped thwart an assassination attempt against his person? At the time he had been grateful but ultimately unconcerned about the woman who had help save him, she was a Baroness, and he was unlikely to see her ever again. However, time and again he encountered her from afar and very quickly she had begun to pique his interest.

"She was raised by her mother, her father died when she was young. He left them in a bit of an awkward situation, financially speaking. Fortunately, they managed to make it through those hard times. Lady Tyler is all the stronger for it. She is also an excellent horsewoman.”

Novem tuned a baleful eye on his friend. "You seem to be extremely knowledgeable about Lady Tyler, Jack."

"I have had one or two delightful conversations with her.”

"Then that explains it. However, I am not remotely interested in Lady Tyler." Turning his back on Rose he smiled at Donna and began walking towards her, abandoning a bemused Jack.

Later, Novem's eyes were drawn once more to Rose, the light of the chandelier bathing her in a golden glow.

He was staring at her, he realised, but he could not help himself. Hers was a dangerous kind of beauty, for she had the power to bewitch a man with a flash of her green eyes.

~~*~~

Having been aware of his presence for some time and feeling his razor-sharp gaze on her, Rose stole perplexed and surreptitious glances at the King. His tall, athletic frame was resplendent in black jacket and trousers, similar to the ones he wore at his birthday celebration a year previous. In contrast, his shirt and neckcloth were dazzling white. He looked unbearable handsome. He also looked utterly bored.

Glancing across the room at the King, Rose watched him prowl among the courtiers. He seemed to radiate barely leashed strength and power. There was something almost primitive about him, and she felt that his elegant attire was nothing but a front, a civilized guise concealing the fact that he was dangerous and powerful.

Rose was surprised at his presence at the ball, particularly given his apparent boredom. And so, it was with even greater astonishment that Rose saw him making his way through the crowd towards her. She could have sworn she heard Martha whisper, “Told you.”

He was not coming over to her, she thought. That would be ridiculous. And yet there he was coming closer and closer to her. She watched him, transfixed.

The King bowed to her, "It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Tyler. May I enquire after your health?"

Rose curtsied, “I am well, your Majesty. Thank you for asking. And you, your Majesty?”

“I am well also.”

There was a brief and awkward pause, Rose was not sure what to say or do. This was not how she had expected the evening to go. Why was the King even speaking to her?

“Lady Tyler, if you are not otherwise engaged would you do me the honour of sharing the next dance with me?”

“Wha-?” Rose choked out. What had he just asked her? She had surely misheard. She must have. There was no way that he had just asked her to dance. Her mouth hung open inelegantly and her mind struggled to find the words to form a coherent sentence.

Before her brain had consciously found those words, she spoke, hearing herself but not being in control of what she said. “Yes, I thank you.”

The King nodded his head in acquiescence and offered her his arm and, in somewhat of a daze, Rose took it.

Had she just agreed to dance with the King? She had, hadn’t she? Oh Goddesses, have mercy on her!

As the pair entered the dance floor there were hushed murmurings all around the room, whisperings which only grew louder when the music began, and the King and a Baroness held each other close for the dance.

He hands were warm and his arms which held her were strong. He moved across the dance floor with an assuredness that she herself did not feel. She felt as if she were dreaming. He was so big and yet slender, his torso tapering away from his shoulders. It made her feel so petite to be next to and held by someone of such considerable physical presence. Up close there was an intensity about him that crackled through every movement, every lingering look.

They danced in silence for some time before the King broke it. “Are you enjoying your time at the palace?” he enquired politely.

“In some ways,” she said, almost sighing. Was she to waste these few precious moments with the King in polite nothings? Yet he did not look as though he was really interested in her answer. “I am certainly glad to see the palace and it pleases my mother that I am here.”

“Your father died some years ago, I seem to recall?”

“Yes, during the plague. I was so young I did not understand properly but it hit my mother quite badly. Things were very difficult for several months after. We were ... we were not left in comfortable circumstances.” She did not want to sound as if she was complaining so she added, “But everything has worked out, I am here, and my mother is quite happy.”

“I am glad that it has turned out well for you.”

Rose looked up at him, puzzled, his words and body language were at odds. Was he really happy for her or was that the politeness speaking?

Novem met her gaze with one of surprising intensity, “Truly, I am.”

“Thank you,” Rose breathed as the dance ended and they came to a stop, the King still holding her close.

Coming to her senses and becoming aware of her close proximity to the King’s broad chest, red hot heat flooded through Rose's body. She quickly disentangled herself from his arms and curtsied, “Thank you for the dance, your Majesty.”

The King nodded. “Good night, Lady Tyler, it has been a pleasure,” and with a small bow the King melted into the crowd and disappeared from her sight.

Bewildered and flustered Rose stood rooted to the spot for some moments before the glances and whispers of the courtiers around her jolted her into self-conscious action.

Snaking her way around people, she eventually came to the doors that led out to the terrace. Stepping out she crossed to a low wall and placed her hands on it for support, breathing hard. The terrace was dimly lit with the rest of the city illuminated in the distance and she did not see the tall dark-haired man, his features in shadow, quietly conversing with Lady Harriet Jones until it was too late, otherwise she would not have ventured outside.

Her sanctuary broken by the seemingly ubiquitous presence of the King, Rose retreated back into the ball and to the safety of her friends who reined in their teasing over the King’s dance when they saw her discomfort.

The group left early, the continuous whispers following Rose and the absence of Martha’s beau put a damper on the evening and it was decided by all to call it a night. It was a decision Rose was eternally grateful for.

***


	10. Lord Decem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem  
> Seven = Septem  
> Master = Dominus  
> Summer’s End = Finis est Aestas

The dance with the King had caused quite a stir among the nobility and Rose found herself once more the centre of court gossip. The dance, coupled with Martha’s remarks in previous weeks about the King’s attention, left Rose in a muddled emotional state. After several nights of broken sleep Rose had decided to spend her time doing something like catching up on some reading rather than getting frustrated by her ever-circling thoughts.

The reading helped and very quickly Rose had a small stack of books to return to the library and an even longer list of books to take out.

With the help of a library assistant she found all but one of the books on her list. The last one was proving rather difficult to find. Thanking the assistant Rose set off on her own to scour the nearby selves for the missing book.

Rose gave a small huff of effort as she climbed up the step ladder for what felt like the thousandth time and combed the shelves for her book. She eventually spotted it to her left, a little out of arms reach. Not wanting to get down and move the ladder yet again, Rose stretched out her arm and tried to reach the book.

She gave a groan of annoyance as she just missed it, her fingers within millimetres of the book’s cover.

She moved to the very edge of the ladder and holding onto the shelves with her right hand she leaned out over the ladder and stretched once more. She was successful this time as the tips of her fingers closed around the book and she pulled it out.

Unfortunately, Rose pulled too much, and the momentum caused her to unbalance. She teetered for a moment at the top of the ladder, neither standing securely nor falling, before gravity claimed her and she fell.

Rose closed her eyes involuntarily as she waited for the inevitable thud and pain of hitting the ground. However, it never came. Instead there was a thump and an, “Uff!” as she fell into what was unmistakably a man’s chest and strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist. Rose’s movement was slowed before both she and the mystery man tumbled to the ground.

Slowly Rose opened her eyes and gazed up at her saviour. He was a young and handsome man; thin with long limbs and light brown hair that was currently falling attractively about his face. He smiled at her as he stood up and then bent down to help her to her feet. Rose found herself transfixed by the man as her heart began to beat rather quickly even though the danger of the fall had passed.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a light and rich tone.

“Y...yes, I am fine. Thank you.” Rose stammered a little as if her brain and mouth had suddenly decided to be uncooperative and not work.

“That was a nasty fall you took. Are you sure you are alright? No broken bones or sprained ankles?” he said with a gentle smile.

Rose smiled back at him, “No, honestly I am fine.”

“Well, I am not the type of man to doubt a woman’s honesty, especially not one as beautiful as you.” His smile broadened and he gave a small bow. Rose felt herself blushing. He picked up the book that she had dropped and handed it to her as she muttered another, “Thank you.”

“May I ask your name, my lady?”

“Yes, of course,” Rose gushed, “I am Baroness Rosabel Tyler.”

“Well no more dangerously climbing up ladders, Lady Tyler. No book is worth you hurting yourself.”

“Do not worry I will not,” she said with a small, embarrassed grin.

“Good, good. Well I must be off.” He bent, took Rose’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. He then straightened giving her one last dashing smile and saying “Alonsy, Lady Tyler.”

Rose stared after him, watching his retreating back and continued to stare long after he had gone. It was only after some time that she realised she had never asked him his name.

~~*~~

The gossip surrounding the King’s dance had thankfully begun to subside and Martha distracted Rose with tales of her new beau. Martha’s excitement grew to contagious proportions when she learned that he would also be attending the Finis est Aestas gathering. Rose could not help but be swept up in Martha’s enthusiasm and forget her own worries.

The Finis est Aestas gathering rolled around, far too slowly for Martha, and the two young women arrived with fervent anticipation. The first half of the night passed without incident and it was only in the latter half of the evening that Martha cried, “That is him, in the blue jacket!”

“Where?” Rose stood on the tips of her toes hoping to catch a glimpse of this mysterious beau over through the crowd.

“Over there, by the large landscape painting.”

“Oh, oh, I see him!” Rose cried in delight. She could see the back of a tall, thin man with light brown hair in a splendid deep blue evening jacket. “I cannot see his face though,” she said with a sigh, “Is he handsome?”

“Oh yes!” Martha exclaimed with glee.

Rose turned back to Martha, “I would very much like to meet him and see just how handsome he is for myself.”

Martha laughed, “I do not think you will have to wait too long to meet him.”

“Oh?”

“He is coming over this way now.”

The two women waited with bated breath for the man in question to arrive.

Rose watched Martha’s face glow with happiness as she looked at her beau when he arrived. The pair greeted each other in a familiar way, neglecting all titles.

At last Rose turned fully to the man as Martha introduced her.

“Rose, may I introduce Viscount Decem, cousin to the King.”

Rose struggled to breathe as she gazed at the fetching man. It was him, the man from the library. This was the man Martha was so fond of. Oh no.

“Decem, this is my best friend -”

“Baroness Rosabel Tyler. It is an absolute please to see you again,” Lord Decem said as he bowed to her and kissed her hand, making Rose blush.

Rose had told Martha all about the handsome stranger who had saved her, although she had never actually described him in great detail so there had been no way for Martha to say that she might know who it was.

“You ... you know each other?” Martha stuttered.

“Erm, yes. Lord Decem is the man who saved me in the library.”

“Oh, how nice,” Martha answered in a strained voice, looking suspiciously at Rose.

“If I may be so bold, Lady Tyler, may I have the next dance?” Decem did not seem to have noticed Martha’s sudden stiff and uncomfortable demeanour.

Rose not wanting to cause a scene by refusing to dance gave a slight smile and agreed. As Decem took her arm and led her towards the dance floor Rose turned and gave Martha an apologetic grimace.

Rose looked up at her new dance partner, so it was Viscount Decem, cousin to King Novem, who had caught Martha’s eye. Decem was the grandson of Prince Dominus, brother to the current King’s grandfather, King Septem, and was one of the most eligible bachelors in the kingdom. No wonder Martha had glowed with pride when speaking about his attention to her.

That attention was now focused solely on Rose and while Rose was captivated with Decem, as any woman would be, she was worried about how Martha would react to the Viscount’s sudden change in affection.

Viscount Decem or Decem as he insistent she call him was a charming man and soon had Rose forgetting about Martha and social etiquette.

When at last their dance ended and the pair parted ways with the promise of many more dances in the future Rose cast about the ball room looking for Martha but could not find her anywhere. Instead she found Captain Jack Harkness.

Jack approached her. “Good evening, Lady Rose.”

Rose inclined her head. “Good evening, Captain Harkness.”

“I thought we had got past the need for formality, Rose. If we have not then I am sorry, but I am afraid it is too late. You are fixed firmly in my head as Rose now.” Jack made a sweeping gesture and bowed low. “And I am sorry, but you look so formidably splendid tonight, that if I cannot call you Rose, I might not muster up the courage to speak at all.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Someone is full of nonsense tonight.”

“Did you not know? That is what all these events are about, nonsense.”

“Hmm. I have been warned about you, Captain,” she said ruefully, secretly pleased that he had begun to affectionately call her by her first name.

“Warned? By whom?” he said in mock offence. “Oh, the shame! Is no one in this wretched court on my side?”

Rose laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “There, there Captain. I am on your side.”

“If you are truly on my side Rose, then you must call me Jack,” he said with a cheeky grin on his face.

“If you insist .... Jack,” Rose replied with a smile of her own.

Jack fell in step beside her as she traversed the ball room and its many adjoining rooms in search of Martha.

They searched in silence for some time before Jack spoke, “I am curious. You see you are a curiosity. And ...” Jack paused.

Rose side eyed him, “Go on.”

“As long as you do not mind answering personal questions?”

“How personal?” Rose said curiously.

“Unapologetically intrusive, knowing me. Unconsciously so.”

Rose gave a small huff of laughter. “My, you have a large vocabulary, Captain.”

“And you have large...,” Jack started, his eyes glancing at her chest. He paused when she gave him a warning look and quickly redirected, “A large exquisitely filled wardrobe.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Rose said, not knowing whether she should laugh of give him a clip about the ears for his highly indelicate near miss.

“How does a Baroness such as yourself choose and pick out such a delicate and exquisite dress as this? That was the first unapologetically personal question, if you were wondering.”

Rose gave another huff of laughter and rolled her eyes.

The rest of Jack’s questions went from innocuous to almost indelicate, but Rose found herself not caring and she asked him just as many questions, which he answered with equal sincerity.

One of the most surprising answers, or non-answers, was when she asked him if there was anyone that held his affections. He did not answer straightaway which was unusual in and of itself but his stammered, “N...no,” and accompanying blush said otherwise. Rose let the subject drop this time, but she was determined to find out more.

~~*~~

Rose eventually caught up with Martha two days later. It was not a good meeting. Martha was furious with her.

Rose stood before Martha in bewilderment, “I do not understand.”

Martha whirled around, “No, of course you do not, because you are just little Ms Perfect, aren’t you?! Argh! You have no idea of what it is like do you?”

“What what is like?”

“You just stand there, and men just fall at your feet, you do not even have to do anything! I have never had a man look at me like that until Decem, but you had to spoil that didn’t you?!”

“Martha, I did not mea-”

“I do not care!”

“Martha?”

“No! Don’t you ‘Martha’ me. I do not want to speak you again. I do not want to see you.”

“Fine!” Rose cried, losing her temper too. “If that is the way you want it!”

Martha gave her a withering look and stalked away.

Rose glared after her, fists clanged and breathing heavily.

~~*~~

The fight with Martha had left Rose feeling somewhat lost, both Clara and Sally had separately tried to get the two women to speak to each other but they both failed miserably as neither Rose nor Martha were willing to apologise to the other.

A week after the fight with Martha, Rose found that she had nothing much to do that day, no personal engagements or meetings. Having spent much of the early morning pondering what to do, she finally decided to go shopping.

She set off in the late morning heading through the castle to the western gateway. She had briefly considered taking a carriage down to the shops but quickly dismissed the idea; there was nothing wrong with a good healthy walk. If she did happen to buy a lot, then she would get a carriage back but there was no reason for her to take one now.

Rose took her time on the walk down, taking in the sights and sounds of the city - other shoppers, families, street musicians, sellers and shop owners calling out their new products and best offers, and merchants and traders haggling on price and quantity.

Rose wandered down the main high street gazing through the many shop front windows, each displaying their best wares to attract passers-by. There was all manner of clothing shops, furniture shops, jewellery shops, bakeries, and eateries.

Rose finally came to a stop in front of a dress shop and eyed the window display with hungry eyes, despite the fact that the hefty price meant that it was way out of her price range. The bodice was a deep maroon velvet which continued through to the skirt until about mid-thigh. Here it changed to a light red material which disappeared into the reaching coal black ruffles around the base of the skirt.

"That would look very well on you."

Rose gave a small start at the sudden familiar voice to her right. She turned to see Lord Decem looking pensively between her and the dress.

She smiled, "Thank you, Lord Decem. Unfortunately, I would have no ball to wear such a dress to.”

“Oh, I doubt that. I am sure there would be plenty.”

Rose gave him a grateful smile.

Decem gave her a strange look before saying, "Would you accompany me to lunch?"

Rose was simultaneously delighted by the offer and weary of its meaning and context. She hesitated in answering. Something of her thought must have crossed her face because Decem tried to clarify what he had said.

"I did not mean to be presumptuous or to slight your reputation. I would very much like to spend more time with you but if that has to wait until there is a suitable chaperone then that it perfectly alright with me. "

Rose considered his words. She was an unmarried woman and should not be spending time alone with an unmarried man. But it was not like they were actually going to be alone together with no one around. They were going to go to lunch in town; they were going to be surrounded by people the whole time. How could anything improper happen?

"Yes, I would love to go for lunch."

"Excellent!"

Lunch was delightful; Decem was charming, funny and very attentive. They talked about everything and anything, from serious topics to the more inconsequential. Any social faux pas was soon forgotten by Rose and she was swept away by the charisma of the man sitting across from her.

After lunch they strolled up the meandering cobble stone street towards the castle, the sunlight from the setting sun casting elongated shadows along the road.

Near the castle gates Decem paused and turned to her, “I hope you do not mind me being so forward,” Rose shook her head, “I have enjoyed today very much.”

“So have I,” Rose gushed.

“How would you feel if we were to spend another afternoon together?”

“Yes, I would love to.”

“Wonderful!” Decem grinned. “Have you been up to the towers yet?”

“No, I have not built up the courage to climb all those steps!” she laughed.

“There are quite a lot of them, I grant you that; but you do not have to climb them all in one go. You can take as many breaks as you like.”

“I do not know. I will go if you take me!”

Decem smiled and leaned in close to her, “Done, it is a deal! How does this Friday sound?”

“Perfect,” Rose smiled, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks from the closeness.

Rose practically floated the rest of the way to the castle where she and Decem parted ways with the promise of meeting in a few days.

~~*~~

Friday could not arrive fast enough for Rose. She was up early and arrived at the entrance hall with plenty of time to spare before the agreed meeting time.

Decem arrived on time, looking very handsome in a brown accented jacket.

“Ready?” he smiled.

“Yes,” Rose returned his smile.

“Then let us begin.”

Decem led her to the base of the South Tower where two ceremonial guards stood. The couple bid the two guards good day and began the ascent.

The four Towers were very large, roughly circular buildings; they began as internal structures but grew external higher up. Their staircases took up a small section of the side of the building, in the form of tightly spiralling steps. The staircase widened every two floors opening onto a landing where the towers connected, via a guarded door, to the main castle before once again narrowing.

Progress up the tower was slow as the pair took breaks frequently and on occasion stopped to take in the view from the narrow windows.

At last the stairs widened and came to an end at a small antechamber with two doors. The door on the right led to the guards’ watch room and rest rooms as well as a supply cupboard. The left-hand door was the one that led out to the Tower walkway.

Decem turned to Rose, “Ready?”

Rose nodded, her stomach churning with excitement and anticipation.

There was a ‘whoosh’ of air as Decem swung open the door and the early autumn sunlight streamed in. With cautious steps Rose followed Decem outside and gasped.

The view was awe-inspiring, they quite literally towered over the castle and the city far below.

With tentative steps Rose edged towards the boundary wall, her heart hammering in her chest. She leaned over and gazed at the view below. She retreated quickly though as a queasy feeling developed at the sheer height of it and thoughts of a very long fall.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Decem grinned at her.

“It is breath-taking,” Rose agreed looking out once again at the castle which stretched out before her, the dome of the great hall glittering in the sunlight, the other three towers, the lush gardens and the many windows of the castle itself.

While Rose admired the view Decem had made his way out onto the bridge itself. “Come on,” he called, turning to face her, and beckoning her over.

Rose gave him a terrified look to which he laughed, “It is not that bad. These bridges have stood the test of time they are not about to break now.”

Rose let out an unconvinced noise but not wanting to seem incompetent in front of Decem she gathered what courage she could find and stepped forward.

Inching her way out onto the wooden boards Rose grabbed Decem’s outstretched hands tightly. She looked up at him, his face so close to hers, and felt a fluttering in her stomach that had nothing to do with her fear of the height.

“Trust me,” Decem whispered seductively, and Rose allowed herself to be led out into the middle of the bridge her eyes never leaving Decem’s.

Decem held Rose for some time until she began to grow in confidence. She stood up straighter and looked around. Eventually her curiosity got the better of her, overriding her anxiety, “What happens during a storm? Surely there would be some damage to the bridges?”

“They reel the wooden planks in. See, just there,” Decem pointed to a series of mechanisms attached to the tower where the bridge connected, “That is what they use those to reel the boards in and that just leaves the ropes exposed, and they are not much of a problem.”

Rose listened intently and marvelled at the ingenuity of it.

The pair made their way leisurely across to the other side of the bridge and to the East Tower. They stopped many times to take in the view and point out some interesting aspect or feature of the scenery.

There was a small picnic basket waiting for them at the East Tower which delighted Rose to no end. Sitting at the small table looking out over the castle and Decem sitting across from her the day could not have gone any better for Rose. With lunch finished they spent a little more time admiring the scenery before making their way down.

The journey back down the steps was far less of an ordeal than climbing up had been for which Rose was very thankful. She did not think her legs could take much more after the day. As they descended the last few steps Rose was very grateful to reach the refuge of flat ground but also regretted that the outing with Decem was over.

Decem escorted her back to her rooms where he bid her good evening and promised that they would have another adventurous outing soon.

~~*~~

Clara had had enough. Rose and Martha had not spoken to each other in weeks and she was sick of playing the messenger. Martha resolutely refused to be the first to speak as to her Rose was the one who was entirely at fault. No amount of cajoling or pleading would change her mind.

Having failed to get through to Martha, Clara set about talking to Rose.

The conversation was a long and frustrating one and it was just when Clara thought that she would have to give up and let the two women wallow in their own self-pity that she seemed to finally get through to Rose.

"You cannot go on fighting forever, it is simply ridiculous. And especially over a man."

"It is not my fault. How was I to know that he was the man she had set her cap at? She never told me who he was!"

"Oh Rose! Do not be so petty and childish. You are a grown woman, start acting like it," Clara admonished.

Rose coloured at the rebuke and fell silent for a few minutes with a mixture of self-pity and shame.

She really had not known that it was Decem that Martha had liked. And while Martha's response had been petty and out of a place of anger, she, Rose, had acted no better in return. Clara was right she had better start acting like a responsible and grown woman. Still, she was not overjoyed at the thought of having to apologise to Martha.

“Oh, all right. I speak to her.”

“Well, thank the Goddesses for that. It is a miracle!”

Rose rolled her eyes at Clara’s heavy sarcasm. “I said I would speak to her not that I could sort it out.”

“Just try. That is all I am asking.”

~~*~~

It was a number of days after her talk with Clara that Rose built up the courage to speak to Martha. She was most definitely not looking forward to it, not Martha’s reaction to seeing her, not the having to apologise for something that was not her fault, and certainly not Martha’s inevitable scorn at said apology.

With a sigh and a heavy heart Rose approached the door to Martha’s rooms.

She knocked on the door and while she waited for someone to answer it, she briefly considered turning tail and running away but her pride stopped her.

To Rose’s surprise it was Martha herself that opened the door. Martha’s face fell the instant she saw Rose and she tried to slam the door shut.

“Martha, wait!” Rose said putting out her hands to stop the door from closing.

“What?” Martha snapped, relenting and letting the door swing open.

“I want to apologise.”

Martha made an incredulous noise.

“I am serious, Martha,” a hard edge entered Rose voice before she sighed heavily. “May I come in?”

Martha nodded tersely and stepped aside for Rose to enter.

Rose stood uncomfortably at one end of the sitting room as Martha stood at the other end, equally ill at ease.

Rose took a deep breath, “Martha, I am sorry.”

Martha’s face remained impassive.

“I did not know that Decem meant something to you.”

Martha gave a derisive snort, “That has not stopped you from continuing to see him though, has it?”

Rose’s shoulders slumped. Martha was right. She knew that her relationship with Decem hurt Martha, but she did not stop seeing him.

“No, you are right. It has not,” Rose said and sank down on a chair. She missed Martha’s friendship, she was tired of fighting, and she wanted her friend back. She told Martha as much, the truth of Rose’s words seemed to get through to Martha and she sat down in a chair opposite Rose; still on edge but listening.

After a very tense discussion Rose and Martha reached an uncomfortable truce. Martha was still not happy about Decem seeing Rose instead of her, but she could not stop it. Rose out of respect for Martha would not mention him to Martha and would keep any future interaction with him to a minimum around Martha.

They parted ways, not yet as friends but not fighting either.

***


	11. Rivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

Rose and Decem continued to meet, much to the delight of the court gossips.

They were out again one mild evening in mid-autumn being surveyed by many, one of whom was the King.

Novem observed the pair, arm in arm, with wary eyes. As he watched Decem take Rose into the gardens he breathed deep, suppressing the urge to roar like an enraged bull, and politely excused himself from his companions and followed. He found them in the middle of the gardens, in the maze.

~~*~~

Rose and Decem’s walk soon brought them to the high dark green hedge that marked the border of the palace maze.

“Have you been inside?” Decem asked gesturing to the maze.

“No,” Rose replied with forlorn look on her face. “We had a small one back home, but it was so small that I had the whole complex memorized by the time I was six.

“So, you know your way around mazes?”

Rose chuckled, “I know a little about them. Why?”

“No particular reason, although I am sure I could find the centre before you," Decem teased.

"Oh, are you? Shall we race and find out?" a mischievous look crossing her face.

“You’re on!”

They took off at a run, Rose going left and Decem going right, their peals of laughter echoing around the green leafed passageways.

"Oh!" Rose skidded to a halt as tall and dark figure rounded the corner and stepped right in front of her path. Her heart skipped a beat when she realised with whom she had almost collided with. It was the King.

Decem appeared silently from behind her moments later, his brow furrowed.

"Your Majesty," Rose curtsied.

Decem's response was far more subdued. He gave a small bow, barely dipping his head and shoulders, and a curt, "Your Majesty."

“Lady Tyler,” Novem bowed to Rose, however he scarcely inclined his head to Decem, “Cousin.”

“What brings you out here?” Decem asked a cold tone entering his voice.

“The weather is fine, and I found myself seeking some time away from court.”

“Indeed, you had best not spend too much time away lest courtiers begin thinking you are getting lax in your duties.”

“And we would not want that, would we?” Novem replied with an arched eyebrow

“No, we certainly would not.”

“So good of you, cousin, to have my best interests at heart.”

“Certainly, your best interests have always been of the utmost importance to me.”

Rose watched the exchange with bewilderment and fascination; the two men stared fixatedly at each other appearing to have forgotten that she was even there. She had the impression that there was some hidden meaning to their conversion but for the life of her she could not figure out what it was.

Rose shifted her weight, and the slight movement reminded the two men of her presence. Rose found herself the focus of two very intense and fervent gazes.

“It is such a lovely day, we would not want to keep you from you walk, your Majesty,” Rose said trying to find a way out of the situation.

“Not at all, Lady Tyler.”

“Well then, as you are such a busy man we will bid you a good day and continue on our way,” Decem said, putting a possessive arm around Rose’s waist and nodding his head to Novem.

Giving the briefest of pauses Decem then looked down at Rose and said, “Shall we?” before beginning to walk down the path and turning his back on the King.

Rose hesitated; the King had not dismissed them, and she was not sure of what to do.

Novem gestured for Rose to follow Decem and bowed to her.

With no shortage of relief Rose curtsied to the King and quickly caught up with Decem.

“Insufferable man, strutting around the place,” Decem muttered.

Rose, giving a swift glace around to make sure they were truly on their own, raised her eyebrows and said, “He is not that bad, he is the King after all.”

“You did not have to grow up with him! Always thinking he was better than everyone else and letting everyone know it.”

Rose gave him a sympathetic look.

“Oh! Let us not spoil the day by talking about _him_ ,” Decem said pulling Rose close.

“We still have to find the centre. Catch me if you can!” Rose dashed ahead as Decem gave chase, the maze once again filling with their laughter.

~~*~~

For the next few days Novem immersed himself in the usual duties and matters of business, firmly believing that it was the only way he could put Lady Tyler from his mind. It worked, to a certain extent, but all his efforts were for naught when the Harvest ball came around.

There she was in a flattering evening gown of shades of creamy ivory and the softest, shimmering green. Embroidery of darker green trimmed the round neckline and the low-cut bodice. A broad ribbon tied round the waist and the ends trailed down behind her. The skirts sweeping gracefully around her ankles as she laughed heartily with her dancing partner. Novem had noticed her almost as soon as he had entered the room; it was as if his was drawn to her by a means only the Gods understood.

He watched her throughout the evening and became progressively irritated as he did so, eventually vocalising his frustrations.

“What in the Gods names is Decem playing at, that is what I want to know,” Novem scowled at his Captain.

Jack’s eyes, initially showing puzzlement at his King’s sudden outburst, soon located Decem with a familiar blonde-haired woman as Novem continued to grumble.

“The way he is monopolising Lady Tyler is becoming the talk of the court. And do not tell me he is thinking of marrying her, for I will not believe it. Apart from the fact he enjoys his bachelor status far too much to risk it for any woman; no one in that family would stoop to marrying a Baron’s daughter.”

Jack frowned thoughtfully into his glass of port. “What did Lady Rose to you, Novem? Do you care for her?”

Novem, at first taken aback by Jack’s question, quickly answered, “I certainly do not want to see her ruined. You know what a menace Decem is around women.”

“Is that all?”

Novem not caring to answer or even consider that question sought to change the direction of the conversation.

While Jack did not fight the swift change in topic, he did have to fight to keep a smile off his face as Novem’s eyes, with increasing frequency, continuously sought Rose.

~~*~~

Rose had been thoroughly enjoying her evening, she had spent practically the entire evening with Decem and most of that time had been spent dancing.

During one of their breaks Rose went to get some refreshment and Decem to talk to some friends, Rose found herself with Sally and Larry.

The couple had just returned from their trip to Arcadia and were full of tales of their trip, what they saw, how they found the city and sights. They invited Rose to call and view Larry’s paintings and drawings.

The conversation moved on, meandering from topic to topic when all of a sudden Larry stopping speaking mid-sentence.

Confused, Rose looked around wildly to find the source of whatever had caused his wide-eyed silence. Rose found herself face to face with the King.

“Your Majesty,” both Sally and Larry chorused before retreating with quick steps knowing that it was not them with whom the King wished to speak.

Rose curtsied, “Your Majesty.”

Novem inclined his head in return but gave no greeting instead he asked, “May I have the next dance, Lady Tyler?”

“You may,” Rose replied, the words leaving her mouth before her mind had a chance to fully grasp the question being asked.

The King bowed to her again and walked away so quickly that it left Rose having to hastily curtsy to his retreating back.

As with their previous dance the pair moved in silence; Rose out of sheer confusion and bewilderment as to why she was once again in the King’s arms being swept around the dance floor, and Novem not knowing what to say now that Rose was actually in front of him.

Eventually Novem could hold his tongue no longer. "You spend a great deal of time with Lord Decem," he said flatly.

Rose was unsure if it was a statement or a question, but his tone indicated that he disapproved. Rose found herself getting somewhat defensive, "So what if I do?"

"Nothing. It was just an observation."

"Not the most profound of observations."

The King raised an eyebrow at her sarcasm and countered, “I am afraid not all of us are gifted with the same level of insightfulness as you, my Lady.”

Rose felt mocked; he was ridiculing her and her association with Decem. “No, perhaps not; but maybe if one spent more time thinking and listening to people and less time going around with a face like thunder then one could gain a little more wisdom.”

Novem’s own temper flared and he twirled Rose faster than the dance required and then leaned in close to speak, “And perhaps if young women were not so easily led by a handsome face and sweet, honeyed words they may not be ruined.”

“What is that meant to mean?” Rose hissed.

Novem gave a bark of harsh laughter, “Have you suddenly lost your insightfulness, _Baroness_?” he emphasised her title, making her feel inconsequential, “It means that appearances can be deceptive and you ought to be more careful where you place your affections.”

“Where I place my affections, as you say, is quite frankly none of your business.”

Novem gave a pitiless smile, “Oh, on the contrary, as King it is my business.”

Novem left the implication hang in the air, unspoken. Rose’s eyes widened in dismay as she grasped the meaning of his words – all those of rank applied to the monarch for permission to marry, permission that could be denied.

Having made his point Novem spoke no more, and Rose, consumed by unhappy thoughts, did not offer up any further wilful opinions. And so, they lapsed into a strained and tense silence, neither one wanting to relent in front of the other.

When Rose finally left the dance floor, seeking sanctuary from the King’s presence and all his barbed comments, she fled to the lady’s room and closed the door, pausing to catch her breath. After freshening up and checking her appearance in the mirror, content that she looked poised and calm, she was about to leave when she heard three women in the room adjacent.

"Who would have thought his Majesty would be here tonight," the first voice remarked, "and just as handsome as ever, do you not agree?"

Rose paused. She detested eavesdropping in these circumstances, but she felt compelled to wait to hear what would come next,

"He certainly is. Pity he is spending so much time with that penniless blonde up-start," came the derisive reply.

"A royal mistress in the making," said a third woman

"You think?"

"Well what else is he going to do with her? He is hardly going to marry the tart, is he?"

"No, he certainly is not." The second woman burst out laughing unpleasantly. "Have you any idea how ridiculous that sounds? The King, marry a Baroness?"

Rose flushed violently and stiffened with indignation.

"She is, after all, the lowest form of peerage."

"There was no mistaking the gleam in his eye when he looked at her, or the look he gave Lord Decem when she danced a third with him."

With burning cheeks Rose had heard quite enough, quietly she opened the door and went out, her spirits quite dampened by what she had heard.

She was thankful when she soon found Decem again.

“I saw the King danced with you again,” he said with a sniff of disapproval.

Rose nearly groaned in frustration. “I do not know why he did that and I hope I never have to dance with him again.”

Decem visibly relaxed at her words. “Then perhaps a dance with me will wipe away any unpleasantness from your earlier dance?”

Rose could not agree quick enough. 

~~*~~

The King retreated back to the safety of the side room after his dance and sought some much-needed alcohol. His thirst quenched he moved to the back wall of the hall where he could watch the ball from the relative seclusion of the shadows, nursing another glass.

As the evening wore on Donna and Sarah stopped to have a few words with him and Jack arrived shortly after.

When the two women left, the two men bid the Ladies farewell and fell into companionable silence, watching the dancing couples.

It was sometime later when Jack observed him with amusement. "You caused quite the stir dancing with our young Lady Rose," he said, a self-satisfied smirked playing on his lips.

Novem either did not hear him or chose to ignore him and remained silent. However, his silence was soon broken "She is dancing with him again, that is the fifth dance. Clearly she is ignorant of the impropriety of dancing with the same gentleman five times."

"You are beginning to sound like a jealous beau," Jack remarked, slanting him an amused look.

Novem ignored him.

"Maybe you should marry her," Jack whispered before leaving his King to his own devices. 

***


	12. Saxon and Madame du Pompadour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

It had been two weeks since the last ball. Two weeks since the King had danced with her for the second time.

Since then Decem seemed to want to spend all his time with her. Rose suspected that the King’s dance with her had unnerved him, it had certainly unnerved her. The way Decem was acting it could almost be called jealousy, which Rose did not understand as he had nothing to be jealous about. Sure, it was unusual for the King to dance with anyone, especially someone as low as her station but she had uncovered an assassination plot against him. The King was only dancing with her out of some sense of gratitude and duty; there was nothing else to it.

It was mid-week and they had spent most of the day out in the gardens, talking and relaxing and just having fun in the mild late autumn weather.

The time for dinner was fast approaching when the young couple decided to go for a stroll before heading in for food. Rose chose the path lined with Apple Grass flowers, their sweet scent filling the air.

“I will never get used to this place. It is beautiful,” Rose said as she let her hand skim across the delicate petals.

“It is very beautiful,” Decem said referring more to Rose then the scenery.

Rose suddenly turned to Decem, a large grin on her face, “Can I just say, I really enjoyed today, all this week really.

“Me too. Come on,” Decem held his arm out to her which she happily took.

They meandered further down the path before Decem spoke again. “Lady Weber is having a small gathering next week, if you would like to go?” he said, giving her a roguishly handsome smile.

“Hmmm...” Rose made a show of considering the idea, tapping a finger against her lips, before beaming and crying, “Of course!”

“Wonderful!” Decem said and caught her by the hands, spinning her around and causing Rose to laugh. “I shall meet you in the entrance hall and we can take my carriage.”

Arm in arm the pair made their way back up to the castle, each just as excited as the other for the upcoming gathering.

~~*~~

Rose spent the next few days fretting about what to wear to Lady Weber’s party. This was the first time she had been invited to a gathering specifically by Decem and she wanted to make a good impression.

So, there were many hours spent agonizing over what to wear, trying on dresses, different combinations of colours and different styles. In the end Rose chose a dress with a sky-blue bodice and a full, pink skirt; it was a colourful and exuberant dress and one she thought Decem would like.

When the evening of the party finally arrived, Rose made sure to arrive at the entrance hall in plenty of time but somehow Decem still managed to be there waiting.

He beamed at the sight of her, “You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Rose gushed, “You look very handsome yourself.”

They made their way out to the courtyard where the carriage awaited them. Rose did not see, nor did she care about the sidelong glances she received from other courtiers as she climbed into Decem’s carriage without a chaperone.

Soon they were off, and the carriage trundled down the many winding streets to Dame Kelly Holmes Close where Lady Trish Webber lived with her daughter, Chloe, as her husband was often away on business.

The manor house was large building and brightly lit by many hundreds of candles, like a beacon for the guests.

The party was in full swing by the time Rose and Decem arrived; the rooms were already packed with guests gathered in small groups and the ball room had several couples dancing.

To her disappointment Decem left her very quickly after their arrival to go talk to some business associates. Somewhat dejected she stood waiting for him to return in one of the smaller sitting rooms. As she waited Rose spotted a ginger cat emerging from behind one of the chairs.

“Hello, little one. What is your name?” Rose asked, her mood instantly lifting.

The cat rubbed affectionately up against her skirts and nudged her gently as she rubbed its head. After several moments the cat began to walk away, and Rose quickly followed, her curiosity and tendency to wander off manifesting itself once more. Trailing behind the cat Rose got held up trying to manoeuvre around the other guests and soon lost sight of it.

“Oh!” she sighed in disappointment, “Where could he have gone?”

Rose craned her head, scouring the room for any glimpse of the cat but to no avail. She continued her search and soon found herself in the ball room. She came to a stop next to the butler, Kel, she thought his name was. He had introduced her and Decem when they arrived, and she was almost certain that he had said his name was Kel.

Kel looked about the room with an anxious gaze; a slight sheen of sweat coated the dark skin on his face.

“Are you alright?” Rose asked.

He had not noticed Rose and jumped a little when she spoke. “Yes! No, oh I don’t know.”

Rose gave him an encouraging look.

He looked uncertain. He should not be talking to a guest so openly about family matters, and yet something in Rose’s demeanour, her kind-heartedness in enquiring about him something no other courtier had done, made him feel he could trust her.

“All week I have been fixing this place, getting it ready for this ball, everything was perfect this afternoon, everything in its place. And now ... now it is being torn apart.”

Rose would not have gone that far but she could see that he was a man that took pride in his work and the guests were indeed being quite liberal in how they treated the items and decorations in the room.

“I do not think it is as bad as that,” Rose tried to console him, “There is some degradation but that is normal for all balls.”

Kel looked unconvinced but he was not clenching his jaw as tightly as before.

Taking another look around the room Rose spotted her host, Lady Weber, looking even more stressed than her butler.

“How is Lady Weber, she appears to be somewhat strained? Is everything alright with her?” Rose asked.

He shrugged, unsure of whether or not to answer, and looked sheepishly at her before seemingly making a decision, “Not really, her daughter is causing her much stress. All moody and sullen, and staying in her room all day and refusing to leave.”

“Young girls can certainly be all of those things. I am sure I gave my mother just as much grief,” Rose tried to consol.

Kel gave an appreciative smile, “The young mistress made a new friend, a girl called Isolus. Unfortunately, her father does not approve of Isolus and has forbidden the two girls from seeing each other. Lady Weber has tried to talk him around, but he will not be moved on the matter. Young Chloe has not been right since.”

He had just finished speaking when a voice called, “There you are, Rose.”

Decem had appeared and seem eager to speak with her. Rose again noticed that Decem had been acting more flamboyant since the King had danced with her, but she pushed the probing thoughts aside. Decem pulled her out onto the dance floor without letting her thank or ever finish speaking with Kel.

Rose soon forgot the momentary rudeness as they danced together, and she was swept up into a dazzling and swirling world where only she and Decem existed.

“There is someone I would like you to meet.”

“Oh really,” Rose said, her eyes alight with intrigue.

“Mhm,” Decem murmured as he whirled her around the dance floor. “But that is for later.”

Quite scandalously they danced another two dances together without changing partners or even stopping. Not that either of them minded, too caught up with the other to notice or care how others perceived their behaviour.

“Ah, there he is,” Decem exclaimed and with a final flourishing twirl he pulled Rose off the dance floor.

“Who?” Rose questioned, her eyes rapidly scanning the room trying to figure out who Decem was speaking about.

Decem led her through the crowd to a tall, haughty man.

With an exaggerated bow Decem introduced Rose. “Permit me to introduce my brother, Rose,” he said to her, “Lord Saxon.”

The two men were poles apart. Saxon looked nothing like Decem; where Decem was warm and open Saxon was cold and aloof. Decem had an engaging manner whereas Saxon’s was distant and standoffish.

“Brother, may I present Baroness Rosabel Tyler.”

“My Lord,” Rose curtsied.

“My Lady,” Saxon bowed to her. “It is a pleasure to finally meet the woman my brother has talked so much about.”

While it was meant as a compliment Rose felt unnerved by it.

“Only good things, I hope?” Rose tried to joke but it came out somewhat strained.

Saxon gave a hollow chuckle, while Decem laughed heartily, clearly not sensing any tension. “Only the best, I promise,” Decem said while patting her hand.

There was an awkward silence where no one spoke, Saxon seemed to think it beneath him to speak first and Decem looked expectantly at Rose to speak.

Her mind struggling to find and compose coherent thoughts Rose eventually asked, “Have you been in the city long, Lord Saxon?”

“I have only just arrived. I do not like court and try to spend as little time here as possible,” he paused to pick off an unseen piece of dirt from his coat, “Court is full of frivolity and trifling, petty people and that is something I could do without.”

“Oh,” Rose was at a loss as to what else to say.

“That is my brother for you,” Decem chimed in, “as practical a man as they come.”

Saxon was doing nothing wrong per say, he was being a bit rude perhaps, nevertheless there was just something that Rose did not like him. She could not describe or explain why but she took an instant dislike to the man. There was just something about Saxon that did not seem right. Something that was false, more false, than the normal court facade.

Rose’s initial assessment of Saxon was proven correct far sooner than she would have liked.

“Ah, there is the Duke of Manhattan, I have urgent business that I must discuss with him and I must speak with him before he leaves. Brother, would you be so kind as to keep Rose company while I am gone?”

“But of course. The young Baroness and I will have much to talk about as we get acquainted.”

Rose grimaced inwardly; it seemed as if she would be stuck with Saxon for the remainder of the ball. Thankfully, there was not long left.

“Excellent. Rose, please excuse me.” He bowed to Rose and with that he left her standing forlornly beside his brother.

Saxon waited until his brother was well out of ear shot before turning to face Rose and she found herself confronting dark, snapping eyes. Brown hair accentuated lean cheekbones and a resolute jaw, and his mouth was compressed into a stern arrogant line.   
  
Rose stood in resentful silence while his gaze slid boldly over her, from the top of her golden blonde hair to her elegant shoes. While Rose was little accustomed to the admiring glances of gentlemen, there was nothing gentlemanly about Lord Saxon's insolent, lazy perusal of her body.

“I will admit you are somewhat pretty; it is a pity about your financial situation. It was your father’s fault I believe that you are virtually penniless? It amazes me that you have not swooned at all these rich and wealthy eligible Lords. Indeed, even at this very moment you are in the presence of an extremely wealthy Earl.”

"Why, how dare you?" Rose was incensed, her face flushed with indignation and an icy fire smouldered in her green eyes.

His hollow chuckle held a note of mockery.

"Why, you arrogant cad. You are a stuck-up conceited man if you believe I would ever swoon at your feet!" she hissed.

Turning her back on Saxon, with her head held high she strode away from him. Halfway across the room she spotted Decem leaving the hall with the Duke of Manhattan which only incensed her further. Decem really had abandoned her to the clutches of his brother. Stalking out to the front of the mansion Rose summoned a carriage to take her back to the castle.

Rose’s first instinct was to go to Martha and tell her about Saxon, however, midway back to the castle she reconsidered. While they were no longer fighting, Rose thought that perhaps a discussion on Saxon, as Decem’s brother, would be too much of a sore point. Rose instead returned to her rooms and found Raffalo there.

Raffalo knew instantly that something had happened and seated herself, ready to listen before Rose could even open her mouth.

“You would not believe what happened tonight. I met Decem’s brother Lord Saxon and ohhh!” Rose growled, not seeing how Raffalo had gone tense at Saxon’s name.

“I care deeply about Decem, but his brother is an odious, insufferable and self-satisfied man. The gall of him to say the things he did! Not one iota of shame, bold as brass!” Rose ranted, pacing furiously up and down the room.

“Argh!” she threw her hand up into the air before turning back to Raffalo. "I will not offend your sensibilities by repeating what he said. The man is an overpowering, conceited beast," she hissed.

Raffalo was caught as to what to do at the display of indignance, try to console Rose or to just let her rant and get it out of her system. She chose the latter

Once Rose had calmed down enough to listen Raffalo told her the downstairs gossip about Saxon.

“He is generally disliked by all staff, the only ones who like are of the same ilk as him, the bullies and cutthroats. I remember some time ago, before you arrived, a maid had brought the wrong food to his rooms and he beat her senseless.”

Rose gasped in horror, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “How could he? Was she alright?”

“She was eventually, but she was very shaken for weeks after.”

“What did the King do when he found out?”

“He didn’t find out.”

“What?”

“As much as we might wan’ to we can’t speak out against Saxon.”

Rose’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But surely the King would listen to you?”

“I’m sure the King would and quite possibly reprimand Saxon, but the King can’t watch all staff at all times. Saxon has many followers in the castle, and he would make sure that there were plenty of _unfortunate_ accidents for those who spoke out against him.”

Rose’s face fell in dismay, “So there is nothing you can do?”

Raffalo shook her head. “We do what we can. Make sure everything is perfect, that he has nothing to complain about and keep our heads down. Some of the footmen have offered to take meals to him since then. Saxon will beat anyone who displeases him, but he is particularly fond of going after maids.”

A shiver went down Rose’s spine. “He does not have any female relatives, does he?” a note of concern entered Rose’s voice.

Raffalo nodded, “I believe there is a sister as well, but she never comes to court. Court is too mundane for the likes of her. By all accounts she’s as bad as he is. But yes, he is also married, to a Miss Lucy Cole, as was. But she spends most of her time at the family estate Valiant.

“What a family. Decem is nothing like them.”

Raffalo nodded absentmindedly, “It’s hard to see how they can be related to the King.”

~~*~~

It had been a week since Lady Weber’s ball and Rose’s anger at Saxon, and her irritation with Decem at putting her in that situation, had greatly abated.

One evening after dinner with the girls, Rose returned to her rooms and was greeted by Raffalo who told her, “A parcel was dropped off for you earlier on this afternoon.”

“A parcel? From whom?”

“There was no name, but there is a note with it.”

“Hmmm,” her curiosity piqued Rose hurried to her bedroom to open the gift.

A large box covered in luxurious sky-blue silk and tied with a delicate cream ribbon sat in the middle of her bed.

Rose removed the note that was tucked neatly under one corner of the ribbon.

“A little gift for you to wear at the next ball. If you would be so kind as to reserve the first dance with me.” An elaborate “D” ended the note.

Rose clutched the piece of paper to her chest, a radiant smile breaking out on her face.

Placing the note aside, Rose ran one hand delicately over the silk on the box’s cover and opened the box with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. Packing paper in the same sky-blue colour greeted Rose and with trembling hands she unwrapped her gift.

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed in delight as dark burgundy material greeted her.

It as the dress she had been admiring in the shop window all those weeks ago.

He had remembered. Not only that but he had actually bought it for her.

Rose lifted the dress fully out of the box and held it up against her body. It looked like it would fit perfectly.

A giggle bubbled up her throat and Rose spun in a circle several times, the black ends of the new dress flaring out seductively.

Her irritation now completely gone and forgotten Rose could not wait for the ball next week.

~~*~~

An opportunity to wear the dress arrived a week later.

The dress was beautiful and Raffalo took extra time and care with her hair, adding in red and black coloured hair accessories.

Checking her reflection Rose's lips parted in pleasure and disbelief. She was unable to believe the transformation. She hoped Decem would see it too.

With nervous excitement Rose made her way down to one of the palace’s smaller halls in which the ball would take place, passing many courtiers on her way.

She entered the hall with a newfound confidence. The new dress, one that she could never have afforded before, and the prospect of spending the whole evening dancing and talking with Decem dispelled any insecurity that Rose had had.

After a quick walk around the edge of the room Rose realised that Decem had not arrived yet. She had spotted Sally on her way around and doubled back to talk to her and Larry.

Little did Rose know that her evening was about to take a turn for the worst.

~~*~~

Saxon entered the hall and smirked as he gazed around the room. He was very much looking forward to the evening ahead. He was going to have some fun and it had everything thing to do with the woman by his side.

The idea had originally been his sister's. Dearest Missy was quite the schemer when she wanted to be. It had all begun when they had heard that their young brother had taken quite a fancy to a penniless Baroness. Now, they would not have minded if it had just been a small fling, a sweet but short summer romance, but as time went on the persistent rumours had suggested that he had formed an attachment to the impoverished woman.

Saxon had come to court to verify these rumours and had most unfortunately found them to be true. He had alerted Missy to the situation as soon as he could and with unnatural speed and cunning Missy had concocted the plan. She had proposed that their brother was attracted to this upstart of a Baroness for no other reason than her somewhat pretty face. If true, then all they had to do was parade a beauty of good breeding and fortune right under his nose and he was bound to go trotting after her instead. And Missy had just the woman in mind for the scheme. She was a beautiful, rich young woman, set to inherit a sizeable fortune, with excellent family connections. Yes, Madame de Pompadour would do quite well.

And so Saxon found himself at the ball, it was for someone’s birthday, but he could not be bothered to remember who’s, with Madame de Pompadour on his arm trying to find his brother in the crowd. The pair made their way leisurely around the edge of the room and Saxon eventually spotted Decem.

Decem was in the midst of a group of friends chatting but noticed their approach and excused himself. The brothers greeted each other in a warm and affable manner and Saxon was quick to introduce Madame de Pompadour.

"Brother, may I present to you the lovely Madame de Pompadour."

Decem's eyes lit up as he took in Madame de Pompadour's appearance. Her golden blonde hair gracefully swept up in an up-style showing her slender neck, a bejewelled necklace that rested delicately between the swell of her breasts, the extravagantly embroidered dress that emphasised the womanly curves of her body. 

"Madame, it is an honour to meet you," he simpered as he kissed her hand.

"The honour is all mine, my lord," she returned in an equally coy manner.

“How have you found palace life so far?”

“The palace is beautiful, the people are wonderful and,” she gave a dramatic sigh, “so many handsome Lords.”

“Oh, and have any of these ‘handsome Lord’s’ caught your eye?”

“Well, there is one Lord in particular. Tall, slender and great hair.”

They continued in this vein, becoming ever more openly flirtatious with each other. Saxon could have sworn he saw Madame de Pompadour flutter her eyelashes a number of times at Decem. They seemed to all but forget Saxon's presence and he was all too happy to silently slip away from them and leave them at it. 

He grinned nefariously as he moved through the crowd. The plan could not have worked out any better; his brother was so taken by Madame de Pompadour's pretty face, large décolletage, and flirtatious manner that he would have eyes for no one else that evening. Missy really did know exactly how to manipulate the hearts and minds of men.

Saxon soon found a perfect spot near the top of the hall to survey the room and its occupants. With a drink in hand he settled himself for an amusing evening.

He did not have to wait long for his entertainment, for he soon spotted the blonde-haired Baroness through the crowd. He had to admit to himself that she looked almost pretty in that burgundy dress. It really did show off her figure to its best. He watched her progress through the crowds chatting with her friends, and every so often looking about the room, presumably for his brother. He knew the exact moment that she did spot him. Her expression was priceless, a mixture of anger, shock, and crushed hope. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes glistened, and her hands shook.

Evidently, she had become unable to continue looking at his brother and Madame du Pompadour and she looked frantically around the room as if hoping that someone would jump up and tell her it was all a joke. Unfortunately for her no one did but she did eventually spot him. He raised his glass to her in a mocking toast and nodded to her in just as sardonic a fashion as the toast. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Saxon smiled to himself, well that was fun. A pity it did not last longer.

Saxon stayed at the ball for another short while. His brother and Madame du Pompadour's preference for each other was becoming noticed and whispered about but there was no further sign of the young blonde Baroness.

~~*~~

There was a stir across the room and Rose, Sally and Larry turned their heads along with everyone else.

“Who is that?” Sally asked as they watched Lord Saxon enter the room.

“That is Madame de Pompadour, if I am not mistaken,” Larry said

Rose watched the woman on Saxon’s arm with curious but cautious eyes. Beautiful, seductive, Madame de Pompadour was both of those things. She glided across the hall floor, very much aware of the stir she had created and obviously enjoying it. A gown of deepest ruby red enveloped her voluptuous body and revealing more than a hint of her cleavage.

Rose turned her back on the pair, completely uninterested in Saxon’s pitiful ploy for attention. Rose and her companions resumed their discussion. After a short while Rose excused herself from the group and went to get some much-needed refreshment. Her thirst quenched she began to make her way back to Sally and Larry, stopping briefly to say hello to people she knew. She was also keeping an eye out for Decem who should have arrived by that point, although she thought to herself, if he had met up with a business acquaintance then he could be away for half the night. Rose at last made it through the crowds and gratefully rejoined her two friends. It was only a little while later that Sally, looking over Rose’s shoulder, furrowed her brow and clenched her jaw.

Rose half turned and followed Sally’s gaze, her own jaw clenching at what she saw. Decem and another woman standing so close together that it looked like they were about to kiss. Rose watched as an incredibly beautiful blonde woman with diamonds twined in and out of her shining hair turn her eyes suggestively up to Decem. Rose’s face tightened with distaste as she looked at the glittering necklace spread across the woman's swelling breasts above the daring bodice of her ruby red gown. Madame de Pompadour.

A flood of emotions rushed through Rose, anger, shock, and broken hope. Blood pooled hot and fast in her cheeks and tears pricked at the back of her eyes glistened and her hands shook. She watched in dismay as Decem and Madame de Pompadour danced together, their behaviour really was quite scandalous. They were so close and intimate she thought they would take each other there and then on the dance floor.

Unable to bear any more Rose looked away; her eyes searching the room for something, anything that would indicate that this was just some horrid nightmare, that it was not real, that it was not happening. She found nothing; that is until she spotted Saxon. She stared at him and he raised his glass to her in a mocking toast and nodded to her in just as sardonic a fashion. Rose’s eyes narrowed and she glared at him as she realised that he had set this up in bringing Madame de Pompadour to the ball. She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd trying to reel in her emotions.

There was a smattering of applause as the music ended and the dancers began to leave the floor. Rose watched as Decem and the other woman stepped off the dance floor but stayed unbearably close to each other, clearly not willing to be separated.

There was an acid heaviness in Rose’s stomach, her throat ached, and, to her annoyance, her eyes had begun to prickle with what she was afraid were burgeoning tears. She did not want him or anyone to see her cry. What kind of ninny burst into tears at a ball because the man she liked wanted to dance with another woman and not her?

To her mortification the tears that had long been threatening welled up, despite blinking furiously, one spilled down her cheek. Hastily she wiped it away. People had begun to notice, their heads moving from Rose to Decem and Madame de Pompadour. With eyes full humiliated tears, she whirled from the hall and stumbled down a corridor.

Slipping into an unoccupied room Rose leant into the closed door, her forehead pressing into the wood. She fought to regain her composure.

As the minutes went by Rose knew she could not compose herself enough to go back to the ball and instead made her way back to her rooms.

Back in the sanctuary of her bedroom Rose sank into the edge of her bed and buried her head in her hands. The tears she had been attempting to hold back spilled out down her face.

When the tears had finally dried, she struggled out of her dress throwing it in an angry heap on the floor and crawled into bed.

But she was too wound-up to sleep. She thumped her pillows, and threw off the covers, furious at Decem’s heartlessness in placing her in such a position. But it was not much later that she sat up, shivering in the chill night air, and dragged the covers back over herself. The certainty that her and Decem’s relationship would come to nothing filling her with a cold sense of dread. She sank back into her pillows, her eyes searching the shadowy corners of her room. How was it possible to care so much for him, yet resent his behaviour with such intensity, all at the same time?

Her mind churned and remained unsettled throughout the night.

By the time morning came, she felt wretched enough to declare to Raffalo that she intended to stay in bed for the day. Raffalo did not argue.

***


	13. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

When Jack entered the study Novem was sat at his desk struggling to make a dent in the pile of papers that were strewn across its surface.

“You know I have been thinking-” Jack began.

“Always a dangerous thing,” Novem cut in.

Jack gasped in mock offence, a hand clutching the material of his jacket over his heart, “You wound me, your Majesty!”

Novem snorted, “Well, out with it. What have you been thinking?”

Jack gave a dramatic pause before beginning, "The kingdom is fairly stable, other than the skirmishes in the south; and I think it was time you set about finding a wife.”

Novem turned his head and he looked at Jack shrewdly. “I think not.”

“Oh, come now,” Jack chided, “A beautiful queen by your side, to warm your bed, to give you children, a son and heir. No?"

Novem huffed, “Who would have me that I could also tolerate? I do not want to be tied to a woman that I cannot abide.” Novem knew that he did not possess the renowned charm of Jack. He exerted himself powerfully and did his best to channel Jack’s effortless likeability, however, to no avail.

“Is there no one in the kingdom that you could love?”

"Love? Me marry for love? You may marry for love Jack, but I am not meant to. I am to marry whoever benefits the kingdom the most. It is expected of me."

“Lady Tyler-”

Novem eyed Jack sharply

“You know I think highly of her, and after what she did for you, you know she is a very capable woman.”

Novem looked unconvinced.

Jack sighed and changed tactic. “You know the rumours as well as I do. You have said it yourself on many occasions. _He_ will ruin her. She does not deserve that.”

“So, I am to marry her?” Novem snapped, slamming a hand down on the desk in frustration.

Jack did not blink. He knew he had hit a nerve and was on the right track, but he did not want to push it too far either.

He shook his head and held his hands up in acquiescence, “Just think about it. Take some time and decide what it is that you want.”

Novem gave him an apologetic look, “I will.”

Jack left the room quite pleased with himself. The King was all bluster and while he dismissed the idea now, Jack knew that the issue of a wife did trouble him. He had planted the idea that Novem marry Rose weeks ago, but it was clear that Novem needed a little nudge to truly consider Rose for a wife.

Jack was aware that from a traditional and practical standpoint Rose was not the best choice for Novem, but he would be damned if he let Novem marry some frivolous scatter brained woman just for the sake of a good match. Rose on the other hand was neither frivolous nor scatter brained, she could and would match Novem. She would be his equal, someone he could love and who would love him in return.

~~*~~

Novem did think about it. In fact, thoughts of marriage and Lady Rosabel Tyler hardly left his mind over the following two weeks. Jack had been right on all counts. He did need to marry and soon, he was not getting any younger and he needed an heir. Lady Tyler was, as Jack had said, a capable woman and she would be his equal. However, there was the unfortunate situation of her low rank and her lack of a fortune. Neither would endear her to the court or to his advisors. He felt guilty for his pride, but he would be a laughingstock if he married her.

And then there was Decem. His interest in Lady Tyler was troubling. Decem had never married, he was too busy pleasure seeking. Yet for all his faults he still possessed his share of irresistible charm. The easy lopsided smile and twinkling eyes were capable of melting even the coldest female heart.

But what was he to do?

Too agitated to work Novem set off for a walk, he choose to go to the bridges, it was an area that not many courtiers were inclined to go and the views and sharp breeze would clear his mind.

He expected to be alone, but he found that the space was already in use.

He paused in the tower doorway, studying the woman that had occupied so much of his thoughts recently, Lady Tyler. She was staring out at the view, at the mountains perhaps or maybe just lost in thought.

He coughed as he approached; she gave a small jump in surprise and turned quickly to see who had disturbed her peace. Whomever she thought it might be she was not expecting the King. Her eyes widen in shock and fell into a clumsy curtsy.

Novem held up his hands and said, “There is no need. I am the one who disturbed you.”

He came to stop next to her and turned to look out at the view, leaning his arms against the railing and fell into silence.

Rose was at a loss as to what to do. She had come up to the bridges to get away from the court, from everyone, from the thoughts of Decem and now she found herself in the company of the very man who made it all more complicated.

Dressed in an open-necked shirt and dark grey silk waistcoat and matching jacket, the King did not seem to want to talk. Rose was confused and more than a little bewildered. What was she supposed to do?

“Is my cousin not with you today?” he asked, although he did not know why. He was curious, he supposed. The rumours about her and Decem and Madame de Pompadour were all over the court and he really did want to know where things stood between the two of them.

Rose tensed at the mention of Decem. “No,” she bit out with more force that she intended.

A raised eyebrow greeted her statement.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed for having just snapped at the King, she clarified. “No, he and I have not seen much of each other in the past two weeks.”

“I see.”

“You see?” Rose asked incredulously. “Well, I am glad you see because I do not.”

Novem seemed unperturbed by her outburst.

“He is my cousin, Lady Tyler; I have known him since he was a babe. What I see is his typical behaviour; he blows hot and cold, that is his nature. I do not claim to know what has or has not passed between the two of you, only that I am not surprised by your disquiet.”

Rose remained silent, not sure whether she felt the need to justify and defend her reaction or not.

“At least that is my humble opinion on the matter, whether it is true or not only the Gods and Goddesses can tell,” Novem finished.

There was something in his tone that made Rose suspect that she was being taunted and it riled her.

“Well then,” she said, a note of sarcasm entering her voice, “I bow to your superior knowledge on the matter.” With a wave of her hand she gave him an exaggerated bow.

Novem turned from the railing and stood surveying her from beneath frowning blue eyes.

Rose equally surveyed him with a steady gaze.

Novem was impressed. He had always liked the unaffected way she had spoken to him, as though he was a real man and not the King to be simpered at, to be flattered and cajoled at every turn.

“Indeed, as well you should,” he grinned, his features relaxing and casually folding his arms across his chest.

Rose blinked in surprise; she had not been expecting a smile, an angry or short retort perhaps but not a smile. The King certainly had, when he chose to use it, a smile that could melt the highest of snow-capped mountains.

Unfolding his arms, he said, “Well then, I wish you a good day, Lady Tyler. Happy thinking.” And with that he bowed to her, turned, and left.

Rose stared after him in puzzlement and said, “Good day to you too, your Majesty,” to his retreating back.

~~*~~

It was the last week in autumn and Rose sat reading by the small lake in the gardens, the castle reflected in its blue waters, when Captain Jack Harkness approached her. On seeing him approach Rose marked the page she was on and put down her book on the bench beside her.

Jack stopped a few feet from Rose and bowed deeply to her. “Baroness Rosabel,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes at the over-exaggerated formality.

Getting to her feet Rose bowed in return and asked with equal ceremony, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Captain?”

“I have come on the King’s business,” he replied.

“The King’s business?” she questioned, her eyebrows rising in a quizzical manner.

“Yes, Lady Rose,” he smiled devilishly before continuing, “The King wishes to have a private audience with you to discuss a ... private matter.”

“And did the King happen to mention the particulars of the matter he wished to discuss?”

“No, I am afraid he did not.”

Rose had the distinct impression that Jack knew perfectly well what the King wanted to say to her. “Very well, lead on Captain.”

“My pleasure, Lady Rose,” he said before once more bowing.

As Jack led her up through the castle to the royal apartments Rose continued to quiz him on what the King wanted, but the Captain remained tight lipped about the whole situation.

“This is where I leave you,” he said as they came to a halt outside the King’s study.

“Jack, what -” she tried again but he held up a hand to silence her.

“You shall see,” was all he said and with that he knocked on the door. They both heard the King’s “Come in,” and Jack entered the room to announce her presence before taking his leave.

Rose moved hesitantly into the room, it was a very masculine room with large and dark coloured furniture; a handsome writing desk took up the centre of the room with light from one of the windows streaming onto its surface.

The King had been sitting at his desk but rose to his feet when she entered, “Thank you for coming.”

Rose wanted to reply that seeing as he was the King she could hardly refuse the request, but she thought better of it and held her tongue, only nodding in reply.

“I know this is a little unorthodox, but may I have a few words with you in private?”

Rose could not even begin to guess what on earth he might wish to say to her that would require privacy but she agreed nonetheless and he dismissed the two guards who stood flanking either side of the door.

“Please sit,” he said indicating the seat in front of his desk and Rose obliged.

“Before I broach the matter, may I have your assurance that you will hold what we discuss in the strictest confidence?”

Rose gave him a mystified look which he returned with a stern scowl.

“If it means so much to you, then of course I will.”

For a minute or two he frowned at her, searching her face as though he needed to be absolutely sure before committing himself any further. Finally, seeming to find her words truthful he squared his shoulders and asked yet another question. “I hope you will not take it amiss if I speak bluntly?”

“Of course, you may speak freely,” she assured him, becoming increasingly puzzled as to why the King of Gallifrey would need to speak to her at all, never mind in private and bluntly.

“Well then,” he said, “as I see it, you are a young, unmarried Baroness with limited access to financial aid and are in search of a husband. I on the other hand, as King, am in need of a wife to secure the safety and prosperity of my Kingdom.” He paused, drawing a breath, “Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?”

Rose stared blankly at him and her cheeks blazed bright pink. She was thankful that she was sitting, for if she had been standing she would have most assuredly fallen. Had she heard him correctly? Surely not!

“Pardon? Could you repeat that?”

“Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?”

She had not misheard. The King of Gallifrey had indeed just made her an offer of marriage.

After a silence of several minutes where Rose sat stock still in utter amazement at the circumstance that she found herself in, the King began to show his agitation at her lack of response by tapping his fingers’ against his desk.

When he could take the silence no more, he spoke, “Please do not dismiss the idea out of hand. Take time to think it over.”

Rose’s astonishment at the whole situation was beyond expression but she was grateful for the reprieve and the time it would give her to compose herself and her disconcerted thoughts. “I ... I shall give it some serious thought and give you my answer tomorrow."

"Thank you."

Rose stood and left the room, keeping her head down lest anyone ask her what she was doing or what had happened. When she was a suitable distance away from the apartments she stopped and leant against one of the stone walls, closing her eyes and trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.

After several minutes of confused and bewildered thoughts something suddenly occurred to her that made her eyes snap open. Decem. She had completely forgotten about Decem. This changed everything. She had to tell him.

Decem had made his amends two weeks after the incident with Madame de Pompadour. It had been a further week since then and he and Rose were back on good terms. Although Decem had only apologised for neglecting her, and not for flirting with another woman while they had been stepping out together. But Rose was just happy to have him back and that Madame de Pompadour and Saxon had departed the capital that she did not bring up the reality of the situation.

With Decem having renewed his attentions to her and now with the King’s proposal everything had been turned on its head.

Rose set off at a quick pace, her skirts trailing behind her, in search of a servant. At last she found one.

“Oh, excuse me.”

“Yes, milady,” the servant bowed.

“Could you find Raffalo and tell her Lady Rose wishes to speak with her urgently in her rooms.”

“Of course, milady.” The servant bowed and set off down to the servant’s quarters.

Rose in turn headed directly to her rooms where she set about trying to compose a note asking Decem to meet her in the gardens. She had only just finished the note when Raffalo arrived.

“Is everything all right?” the lady’s maid asked when she took the letter.

“I have no idea. I just .... I must speak with Lord Decem. Once I do, things may become clearer.”

Raffalo still looked concerned, taking in her mistress’s pale face and flushed cheeks, but she did as she was asked.

Decem agreed to the meeting and one hour later Rose, a shawl around her shoulders to ward off the evening’s chill as clouds rolled in on the horizon, paced anxiously in a secluded part of the gardens awaiting his arrival.

After what felt like an eternity Rose saw him round the bend in the path.

“Oh, Decem. You are here.” Rose rushed to him and took his hands in hers.

“Rose, are you all right?” he asked looking at a somewhat frazzled Rose. “Your note made it sound quite urgent.”

“It is urgent,” Rose said in earnest as they began to walk down the path. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

“Believe what? Rose what happened that got you into such a state?”

They continued to stroll down the tree lined avenue and Rose tried to find the words to tell him. She found herself getting more and more anxious about it.

What would he say? Would he be angry? Jealous, even? Would he demand that the King rescind his offer?

Decem gestured to a stone bench and they both sat, Decem angling his body towards Rose and taking hold of both her hands.

Rose drew breath to speak but found herself lost for words. Decem nudged her playfully with his leg and prompted her to speak, "Something happened today?"

"Yes, it did. I was ... you see ... I was summoned to see the King ... and he..."

"What? The King what?" he half chortled in utter confusion.

Finally, she managed to say in a rush, "The king has asked to marry me.”

Decem looked blankly at her before he began laughing. “Oh, very good Rose, very good. You almost had me.”

“I am not joking. He, the King, asked for my hand in marriage.”

Decem's expression faltered; the smile faded from his face and the atmosphere between them changed. "Oh, I see,” he said, turning his head to look away from her.

Was that all he was going to say? Was he not going to protest? Say that he cared for her more than the King ever could? Say that he would marry her, instead of Novem? Why did not he say something?

“Have you given him an answer?”

Rose shook her head. “No, I have until tomorrow.”

He stood abruptly, walking away from her, and remained silent for a few moments. “Well then,” he said and turned back to face her, his face expressionless. “How very advantageous for you. I guess I should congratulate you on your happy news,” a dark undertone entered his voice.

Rose did not understand what was happening. Gone was the man she had spent so much time with, the man she had fallen for, and in his place was this stranger.

She stood and reached out to him. “Decem,” she began but he had already begun to step away from her.

He shook his head, “I must go, Rose. I am a very busy man, and you have much to discuss with your King.”

“Decem, please,” she called after him but his continued to retreat from her and soon he had vanished from her sight.

What had just happened? Rose sank back down onto the bench. What in the names of the four Gods and Goddesses themselves had just happened? Why would Decem act like that, speak to her like that? They had never spoken of marriage, but it had been implied in every other way. In the way they interacted with each other, their actions, their gestures. They cared about each other, there was no denying that. But the man that had just left her was nothing like the man she knew. What went wrong? What did she say? What did she do to cause such resentment? She had only told him the truth. What had she done?

The sky above Rose’s head hung heavy with clouds as grey as stone, vastly different from the bright and sunny morning she had spent sitting by the lake. She blinked away the fine drizzle which was now falling and doing its best to blur her vision as the normally pretty palace gardens were reduced to a mere muddle of drab greens.

With her clothes getting steadily more damp, Rose made her way dejectedly back to her rooms where she remained for the rest of the night with her jumbled thoughts and chaotic emotions.

***


	14. The Engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem  
> Twelve = Duodecim

Rose had a fitful night’s sleep, and she was awake long before the maid came in to light the fires. Rose felt quite retched. She had honestly thought that Decem would say something to dissuade her, even propose to her. She could not marry the King if she were promised to Decem. But he had not said a word. In fact, he had been quite horrid about the whole thing. And now .... now if she had a decision to make.

Should she accept the King’s proposal? Did she really have a choice in the matter? While it was indeed a great compliment to have secured the King’s affection or at the very least his interest, could she really marry a man who showed so little affection for her up until this point? She would never have guessed that he had felt anything for her. He had danced with her to be sure, but he had also taunted her and mocked her relationship with Decem.

She curled up into a tighter ball under the covers, her head in her hands. He had experienced so much, when she had scarcely set foot outside her neighbourhood before her journey to the Capital. Why had he asked her? No, the real question was could she live with herself if she spurned him? What woman in her right mind would refuse the King’s hand? It hardly mattered what had motivated him to ask for her hand.

She had always thought that she would marry for love and not for money, despite what the majority of her peers had said. But she could not refuse his offer. She had to accept his hand.

Well, is that it, she thought. If Decem has not said anything to stop her, and any other woman who had received the same offer would have said yes immediately, and she was not exactly in a financial position to refuse such an offer, then she must accept. It was a yes.

That afternoon Rose was once again summoned to the King’s study and with a rustle of skirts and more than a little trepidation she entered the room.

Novem turned as she entered. "Have you considered my proposal?"

"I have." Rose paused and took a breath before finishing, "And I accept. I will marry you."

The King nodded. “I am glad. Will you need to contact your mother for approval of the match?”

“You are the King, my mother will hardly disapprove of such a match,” she countered with an air of sarcasm.

She noted the flash of surprise in his eyes and she waited with some apprehension for the response.

Then his face cleared and he a bark of laughter. “Touché. I recommend, milady, that you save some of that sharp wit to respond to those that wish to offer you false compliments in your most fortunate engagement.”

Yes, people would talk, she thought. Well, of course they would. Why had she not realised that? She would be Queen. Oh Goddess, she would be Queen. She, Rose Tyler, a penniless Baroness from Arcadia would be Queen.

“Are you all right?” He asked slowly and deliberately, as though he expected her to misunderstand, “For a moment, you looked quite ill.”

“It is nothing,” she choked out. 

“Shall I open a window to let some air in?” he asked, looking unconvinced.

Rose cleared her throat. “No really, I am fine.” She did feel somewhat faint at the realisation of what she had done by agreeing to marry him, and the impact it might have on the rest of her life.

Rose swallowed, feeling nervous and unsure of herself and waited for Novem to speak.

"Good," he said, moving back behind the desk. "To make it official I shall see to it that our betrothal is announced two weeks from now. That will give you some time to become more accustomed to the idea before you have to inform your mother and to deal with the rest of the court. The Engagement Ball will be held one week following the announcement and after that we can begin the more formal arrangements."

With the preliminary details sorted the King bid her good day and Rose was free to leave.

Sometime later, sitting at her desk Rose found herself confronted with the dawning realisation of her changing situation. The letter she wrote to her mother was brief giving only the facts, for she knew her mother’s response would contain more than enough excitement for the both of them. But in writing it down the reality of was happening slowly began to sink in and it was quite terrifying.

She also wrote a letter to Mickey. Mickey, dearest Mickey, who she promised she would not forget, and she had. Would he hate her?

Rose lay her forehead down on the desk and groaned. What was she doing? She sat back up and shook her head. Tell Martha, she thought, you have to tell Martha. In that moment Rose was eternally grateful that she and Martha were friends again and their close companionship had been restored.

Thankfully, Martha was in her rooms so Rose did not have to spend too much time searching for her.

The two women settled down in Martha’s small sitting room and with minimal stuttering Rose told her of the King’s offer of marriage.

Martha gasped. “I knew he was intrigued by you, why else would he dance with you? But to propose marriage? Who would have thought that he would hold you in such high regard? Congratulations!” 

Martha threw her arms around Rose. "But you really do wish to marry him, do you not?"

Rose appreciated Martha's concern for her, was delighted that there was no lingering resentment over Decem, and reassured her friend that it was what she wanted even though she did not feel as confident as she appeared.

Something of her uncertainty must have shown because Martha gave her a shrewd look and asked, “Or are you simply accepting his proposal because he is the King?”

Rose shrugged, not wanting to admit it out loud.

“Rose, I would not blame you if you did. It is not every day a King proposes to you.”

Rose smiled appreciatively. “It is not the full reason why I accepted but it certainly contributed to the decision. I am not exactly in a position to refuse such an offer.”

“But what woman would not accept such an offer even if she was a very wealthy heiress? The King is a stern man to be sure, but he appears to be loyal and steadfast too, and I do believe you will be happy with him.”

With Martha’s supportive words Rose began to feel somewhat more comfortable about the engagement.

Martha sent word to the others to call to her rooms and within the hour Clara, Sally and Larry had arrived.

Rose would have found their reactions to the news amusing had she herself not still been so stunned over it. Initial shock and gapping mouths were swiftly followed by delight and glee.

“Told you!” Sally laughed to Larry. “I may not have been able to see your affection for me, but I saw the King’s for Rose.”

“I stand corrected, my dear,” Larry chuckled with a shake of his head.

“You saw?” Rose asked, partially dismayed.

“I think we all had an inkling but not that it was so serious,” Clara chimed in, the other three nodding in agreement.

The others peppered Rose with questions for the rest of the afternoon, wanting to know all the details. The discussion was frequently broken exclamations of astonishment and delight over the whole situation.

The subject of Decem was studiously avoided.

~~*~~

“You cannot be serious! It is utterly unacceptable. You are the King! You should be marrying a Princess from another kingdom or at the very least a Duchess from you own kingdom. Not some dead Baron’s daughter from a small and dilapidated estate. It is ridiculous!”

Jack smiled indulgently as he listened to Donna rant at the King. She was the only person in the kingdom who could get away with speaking to the King in such a manner. Not even he would be able to address Novem in such a way. Donna, as strong-willed as she was intelligent, would always try to do what was best of the kingdom and Jack could understand her current irritation.

While he had been privy to the King’s growing interest and affection for Rose, nay encouraged it, Donna had not and now the King’s decision to propose to Rose probably felt quite impulsive and irresponsible to her, not only for the King personally but also for the kingdom.

“I mean, I liked the look of her. She had fire in her eyes, gumption. And she was instrumental in stopping the assassination plot, but still. I would never have encouraged her if I though you would end up wanting to marry her!” Donna continued.

“And you!” she turned on Jack. “You were the one who recommended that I approve their invitation to the birthday celebration last year. Have you been planning this all along?”

Jack held up his hands in placation, “I assure you dearest Donna that I planned nothing. Honest!”

Donna glowered at him, unconvinced.

“I thought they were pretty and wanted to see more of them.”

“And you could not have seen them around the castle? Accidentally bumped into them out in the gardens?”

“But they would not have been so pretty, and all dressed up.”

Donna narrowed her eyes at him but did not push the issue any further. She would get nowhere with him; he had an excuse for everything. He was one of the most insufferable men she had ever come across, but he was still one of her closest friends.

“What about Princess Jabe, of the Forest of Cheem? You always liked her,” Donna suggested in desperation rather than in hope that he would agree.

The Cheemians were a woodland people, their cities built in and growing with the forests of their kingdom.

“Enough!” Novem called. “As you so aptly put it, I am the King, and as such I will marry whom I chose.”

“It is that very fact which means that you cannot marry whomever you wish. Your life is no longer your own, you must do what is best for the kingdom. And that entails not marrying a Baroness,” Donna countered.

“You can always make her a Duchess,” suggested Jack from the corner of the room to which he had retreated. This earned him a withering look from Donna.

“It would appear that you are outnumbered, my dear,” came a voice from across the room.

Donna turned to see her grandfather traversing the room and gave him a slightly exasperated look.

“I know you value propriety, but it is really not all that bad. The young Baroness is of noble birth, she is well liked by many at court and had made many friends including Lady Oswald. And Lord Duodeciem himself has told me how highly Lady Oswald speaks of her. It is really not as bad as you think, sweetheart,” Wilfred continued.

Donna sighed. She was indeed outnumbered and her only true ally, Sarah-Jane, was not due to return to the kingdom for many months. “I do not doubt her personally, only how her low social ranking will be perceived both within and outside the kingdom. It will be viewed as a weakness, a weak King, and a weak kingdom. The Southern skirmishes have only just been resolved what if this union sparks another rebellion or if we have passed up the opportunity to make a strategic alliance with another kingdom?”

Looking about the room Donna exhaled in frustration. Turning to Novem she said “Well, clearly there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, there is not,” Novem replied in a firm tone.

“Then I suppose I had best start getting things organised for an engagement ball and the deployment of extra soldiers. Jack, I will need to discuss the placement and allocation of soldiers with you later.”

“I will call on you this evening,” Jack said.

With only a small amount of residual annoyance Donna said, “Congratulations on your engagement, Novem.”

Wilfred echoed his granddaughter’s sentiments although in a much more jovial tone before the two of them left. 

After they had left Jack turned to Novem. He beyond happy for his friend, and for Rose, but he wanted to make sure it was what Novem wanted. "Does it at all bother you that you will be marrying so far out of your class? The court gossips will have a field day and it will cause quite the scandal," he asked

"Personally, I do not give a damn what people say, in particular those members of court who make it their business to drag up the dregs of a sandal. What does concern me is if it hurts Lady Tyler, but she is strong, and I believe she will weather the storm."

Jack gave him a crooked grin, "So, you really are going to marry her, aren't you?"

Novem nodded and a soft smile of his own curved his lips. "She really is quite beautiful, and she has a sharp mind to go with it."

"Indeed, she does,” Jack agreed, “You have gotten yourself a treasure in Rose. Congratulations, my friend," he said moving to embrace Novem.

“Thank you.”

~~*~~

True to his word, two weeks later the announcement was made of the King and Rose’s engagement. 

The announcement caused quite the stir in court and the wider city, everything from joy and excitement to disbelief and mockery. And very quickly the whole kingdom began humming with talk of the engagement and the woman how had managed to snare the King.

The engagement ball was to be a lavish affair; no expense was going to be spared. The week before the ball was hectic; the castle was a hive of activity with palace staff desperately trying to get everything ready and in order from decorations to the food, to the number of guests and rooms available.

The ball would also be the first time that Rose and Novem would appear together in public as a betrothed couple which caused no end of gossip among the courtiers as to what the pair would be like around each other.

Rose’s dress for the night was elegant but simple enough. It was an ivory white bodice and skirt with an overlay of teal blue flowers stretching out across the fabric.

When she was ready, she was conveyed up to the King’s study from where the two of them would depart for the ball together.

"Good evening, your Majesty," she said when she entered eyeing the man before her.

His black evening clothes matched his dark hair and contrasted sharply with his snowy frilled shirt and accentuated the long, lean lines of his body. Rose noticed again how incredibly piercing his eyes were. It was impossible not to respond to him, his masculine power dominated the scene.

"Novem," he said.

"What?"

"My name is Novem. Your Majesty is far too formal in the circumstances."

"As you wish Your Maj- Novem."

Novem cocked his head to the side. “Do you prefer Rosabel, or are you a Rose?” 

“Rose.”

“Then Rose it shall be.”

There was a slight paused before he said somewhat awkwardly, "I have something for you," and he produced from a drawer in his desk a black velvet box. Opening the clasp, he withdrew a diamond necklace with one large single drop of a sparkling grey stone Rose did not recognise in the centre. It was the most beautiful necklace Rose had ever seen.

"Do you like it?"

"It is beautiful. What is the centre stone?"

“That is a Key Stone. It was used centuries ago to decorate the key stone in door arches. They have long since been either stolen or hidden away but one still remains over the door of the reservoir here at the castle. The stone is very unique, it has particles in it that appear to shine and glow yellow in the sunlight.” Rose continued to admire the necklace as he spoke.

"Turn around and I will put it on you."

Rose turned her back to him. His long fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he fastened the clasp and sent shivers down her spine. The Key Stone came to rest delicately above the bodice of her dress. Turning back to him she fingered the stone and smiled awkwardly.

"Thank you, Novem. I have never seen a necklace quite as beautiful."

"It is a family heirloom," he explained. “It was my mother's and my grandmother's before that."

Rose stared at him, uneasy at receiving a gift that must have sentimental and family value. "Then you should not have given it to me. I cannot accept it. It should be given to the Queen-"

"We are engaged, and you will one day be Queen. It is only proper that I give you gifts," he interrupted.

"But something of such value and personal meaning?"

"Then let it be a promise of commitment and things to come."

This necklace meant marriage and lifelong commitment. The clarity of this realisation frightened Rose a little.

"I ... Thank you. It is very beautiful."

In a strange yet not wholly uncomfortable silence they proceeded down to the Great Hall and paused for a few moments in the ante chamber as they were announced to the court.

Unfortunately, this period of waiting allowed Rose’s anxiety levels to rise considerably and it was with a mixture of wanting to be sick and feeling like her heart was going to burst out of her chest it was beating so quickly that Rose took Novem’s arm and they walked out onto the dais.

Several hundred men and women dressed in silks and satins and with jewels glittering in the light of the chandeliers turned to look. Rose saw a sea of faces and the babble of conversation from the courtiers died down as she appeared on the King's arm.

Curiosity, admiration, and envy were just some of the expressions that looked up at the couple. 

Keeping her proudly and protectively by his side, Novem strolled nonchalantly into their midst.

Every neck in the hall craned to see Rose, straight backed and very lovely, walking beside the King. The folds of her dress clung to her slender body and her necklace gleamed with its prisms of sparkling light and the glow of a setting sun.

Tucked in by Novem’s side Rose began to relax and was both impressed and amused by Novem's indifference to the excited curiosity their appearance was generating. Rose watched as he nodded to acknowledge friends and acquaintances, introducing her to what seemed like hundreds of people. They all seemed quite pleasant; they smiled and simpered and congratulated the pair on their engagement. All the while Rose wondered which of the simpering courtiers were sincere in their good wishes and which of them would be whispering malicious gossip about her over the next couple of weeks.

Taking two glasses of wine from the tray of a hovering footman, Novem handed one to Rose, raising it in a toast.

"My Lords and Ladies of the court, I thank you for being here and for your kind wishes on this happy occasion.” He turned to Rose, took her free hand and kissed the back of it. “Lady Rose has most graciously accepted my hand in marriage, to be my wife and my Queen and made me a very happy man. To the future."

For the benefit of their audience she gave him a dazzling smile and said, "To the future.” This was echoed by the courtiers who broke into a round of applause.

"Come, people are staring, and I would have this dance before I find you swept away by some overzealous Lord, namely Jack" he said offering his arm to her, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a suppressed smile.

Rose, grateful for the humour, gave a small chuckle and took his arm graciously.

Novem led her out onto the dance floor, the guests parting to let them through. He took one of her hands, the other going to her lower back, while she in turn placed other hand just below the nape of his neck.

The music stated to play, and they moved to it. As they moved gracefully across the dance floor, caught up in the King’s arms the doubts of the engagement and impeding marriage disappeared from Rose’s mind and the dance passed in a blissful dream.

It was later in the evening, after spending much of her time with Martha, Sally, Larry and Clara, that Rose came across Jack.

"I hope you do not disapprove, Jack,” she asked as he took her hand and kissed the back of it affectionately.

A smile stretched across Jack's face. "If my humble approval can be of any comfort to you Rose, I give it to you gladly. I sincerely hope the two of you will be happy."

It was Rose's turn to smile. "Thank you. It means a lot to me and gives me courage knowing that in you I have a friend."

"He is not the easiest man to get close to. But he is better for knowing."

"He has been a good friend to you?"

"We have been friends since we were children. He has tremendous strength of mind and will. I cannot match him in that, and he rarely meets with opposition from anyone."

"Only you?" Rose teased.

Jack chuckled, "Me and Donna, and perhaps Sarah Jane as well. He is a man who needs to be taught how to love, and I think you are beautiful and sensible enough to stand a chance of doing just that."

Rose was not convinced and gave an ironic smile.

"We are not marrying for love. To be honest I do not know why we are marrying."

"Your marriage may be convenient to both of you but that does not necessarily mean that affection, tolerance and even love will fail to blossom. He has been working himself into the ground the last few years trying to get the kingdom back into shape. But some time with you will do him the world of good. You have nothing to fear, Rose."

With the serious part of the conversation done Jack pulled her towards the dance floor, saying, “I must have at least two dances with you before you become a married woman.”

True to his word Jack danced the next two dances with Rose before the two retired to the side-lines to rest and catch their breath. Novem joined them after some time and he led Rose out onto the dance floor for the final closing dance before the engagement party ended.

***


	15. Acclimatisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Satellite Five = Equium Quinque

A week after the engagement ball Novem had organised a small day trip to one of the mountain viewpoints not far from the city.

Rose descended the front steps to the awaiting carriage. Novem had not arrived yet.

"Rose," Jack called to her as she approached, "May I introduce Colonel Gwen Cooper. She is going to be the head of your personal bodyguard when you are Queen and will be joining us today."

Rose nodded silently and smiled at Gwen who bowed respectfully. Jack continued to chatter on, and Rose took the opportunity to study Gwen. She reminded Rose of her old maid back home. They had the same dark hair, kind eyes and even a small gap in the two front teeth.

The two women made their way into the carriage as Jack set about organising the rest of the party.

It was not long before Novem arrived and with the final security checks completed the carriage began its decent down through the winding city streets. The early hour meant that the roads were reasonably clear, and they passed through the Eastern Gate in good time.

The carriage trundled along the Mountain Pass Road and Rose, sitting opposite Gwen who was clad in a stylish yet rustic dress, found her curiosity piqued.

Gwen was a Colonel and yet here she sat in a dress, a rather lovely dress but a dress all the same. Was she on duty? She could not be. It must be her day off. Surely, she did not fight in a dress? How would she fight in a dress? It must be so awkward. Was she even meant to fight? She was a woman after all even if she was in the Royal Guard.

Something of her thoughts must have crossed her face because Gwen grinned at her in a mischievous sort of way, like she was hiding a great secret.

"You are trying to figure out how I fight in this thing?"

Rose nodded sheepishly.

Gwen's grin broadened as she lifted the skirt of her dress to reveal men's breeches underneath.

"The skirt is detachable here and here," and she indicated two sets of complicated looking straps. "They look more complicated than they are. They're a type of quick release knot so I could have this thing off in a matter of moments if we were attacked."

“Goodness,” Rose gazed in fascination at the intricate mechanism. "It cannot be easy being a woman in the Royal Guard? Let alone a Colonel."

"It has its challenges alright, but I was born to do this job. I could not imagine doing anything else. I would not want to do anything else. I doubt many of the Ladies of the court would accept my company these days. My friends, my family, are the Guard. My husband, I think you would like him, he supports me and the work I do. Although he does sometimes joke that Jack is my second husband. Overall, I have a pretty good life."

Novem relaxed and reclined more into the seat as the two women chatted amicably. While he had been quite certain that Rose and Gwen would get along when they met, he was nonetheless pleased that did actually like each other.

After some time, the carriage reached the base of the mountains and began its steady climb upwards, winding its way along the narrow tree lined road. The green and silver leaves, interspersed with red, swayed in the breeze and cast a warm aura as the carriage passed beneath them.

At last they reached their destination, which lay just off the main mountain road. They had entered a wide clearing in the trees with several paths leading off it.

It was a beautiful spot, the dabbled sunlight streamed through the canopy and the smell of the trees and mountain grass was carried on the gentle breeze.

“Shall we take a short walk up one of the paths before we have some food?” Jack queried.

With no objections the small group set off taking the northern most trail.

The slope started off gentle enough but soon developed into a steep incline. Rose found herself exhilarated by the strenuous exercise, she had spent so long within the confines of the city limits and grounds that she had forgot the joy, the freedom of being outside in the wilds.

Novem kept a close eye on her, giving her a helping hand up the trickier sections and once or twice moving in close behind her when she looked unsteady.

Having the King so close to her made Rose very self-conscious. She would give a small wobble as she traversed the uneven ground and suddenly, he would be there, right behind her, his hands on her waist steadying her. If the walk had not already had her flushed, Rose’s cheeks would have been on fire.

Once the party was sufficiently winded, they paused to catch their breath before making their way back down another path.

When they returned to the area where their carriage was parked, they saw that a picnic had been laid out for them on a large blanket in the middle of the grassy clearing. A fire lighting in a nearby fire pit sent waves of heat across to them, warding of the chill of early winter. Everyone sat down and eagerly ate after their walk.

“Where do all the paths lead to?” Rose queried sometime later.

“Most are various walking and hiking paths but that one leads to the viewing point,” Gwen pointed out.

Rose’s eyes lit up, “May I?” she asked, turning to Novem.

“Yes, but be careful.”

“I will,” Rose said in an entirely carefree voice as she scrabbled to her feet and scurried down the road.

Novem huffed in mild irritation at Rose’s complete lack of safety awareness.

Jack chuckled, “Do not worry; I will go make sure she does not fall of the cliff.”

“Thank you, Jack, I feel so much more reassured now.” 

Both Jack and Gwen laughed at Novem’s sarcastic tone.

“Do not mention it. I am here to help,” Jack teased as he too headed down the path.

Jack found Rose safe and sound and came to stand next to her as she looked out over the magnificent vista. They could see down the mountain, covered in green and silver leafed trees, out into the valley with its farms and pastures, and over to the bustling city and the palace sitting like a crown on top, framed by the mountains on the other side of the valley.

"Stunning is it not?"

"Yes, quite beautiful."

"It will all be yours someday soon," he joked.

Rose's lips thinned in a tense grimace.

"You do realise that any other woman in the kingdom would be jumping and screaming for joy at the thought of a chance of being Queen?"

"I am not most women."

He chuckled. "No, you certainly are not."

There was a short pause.

"But something is troubling you?"

Rose turned to look at him. His eyes were soft and kind, his expression interested and earnest.

"Why me? Why did he choose me? He could have any woman in the kingdom, any royal blooded woman from another kingdom, yet he chose me. A virtually penniless Baroness with no father or brothers and a rundown estate. Why me? What earthly reason does he have for marrying me? Is it some sort of joke?"

"No!" Jack replied sharply. "It is most certainly not a joke."

"But he does not like me. He smiles only occasionally. We barely speak to each other and when we do, it is more stilted than free flowing. How can he ... Why..."

Jack took her by the arm and steered her to a wooden bench where they sat down.

"The King is a difficult man to read, I grant you, but he has not made the decision of making you his wife and Queen lightly. It will certainly ruffle a few feathers at court-"

"Only a few?" Rose interjected sarcastically.

Jack shrugged. "Alright, a great many feathers will be ruffled at court because of your match. But he has offered you his hand in marriage and that means that he is very serious and committed to marrying you. It is not a joke."

"But why me?"

Jack smiled, "If I might be so bold as to say that you are a very attractive young woman, Lady Rose. Any man would be a fool not to think so."

Rose blushed at this.

"On a more serious note, you are clever, quick witted and are not a blundering sheep like most Ladies at court. You are a breath of fresh air in the stuffy and congested hall of court. Not to mention that you foiled an assassination plot. Despite your lower station and financial woes, the King sees you as an equal, as a partner in marriage, in life and in running the kingdom. Having an intelligent and equal partner is far more important to him than title or riches."

"But he does not talk or smile much."

"No, he does not smile as often as he should. But he is the King and needs to maintain an air of importance and grandiosity that the rest of us do not have to. Once you know how to make him smile and laugh then it is not that hard. As for not speaking to you much, I think you might have rendered our illustrious monarch a little tongue-tied. "

"Me, make the King tongue-tied, preposterous!"

"Oh, I do not think so."

They both laughed.

"What is making the two of you so merry?" Gwen called as she approached them.

"Just trying to convince young Rose here that all this is real and not an elaborate hoax."

"And has he succeeded?" she asked, Rose.

"Yes, I think he has," Rose smiled.

"Where is the King?" Jack queried.

"Oh, a squad patrol passed by. He went to speak with them, and I took my leave."

"Must be checking how the Pass is doing."

"So, has he told you any stories yet?" Gwen asked Rose, nodding to Jack.

"What stories?" Rose replied, puzzled.

"Stories of him and the King. They grew up together and got into all sorts of mischief."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Go on Jack, you cannot not tell her now."

"All right, all right. Give me a minute to think of where to start."

After some minutes of silence Jack was ready.

"Right. So, me and his Majesty must have been about ten or eleven at the time. We were meant to be going to our lessons with Mr. Finch. I am sure you will meet him sometime soon; he will most likely be the one to give you lessons on procedure and all the other thrilling minutia of court. Anyway, Mr. Finch was, and still is, a stern and prickly man and what were two young and boisterous boys to do? Stay inside and have a boring lesson or have an adventure? So, we skipped the lesson and wandered about the castle trying to think of something to do. We soon found ourselves at the stables which appeared to be deserted. We checked and there was no one around so we took two horses and decided to take a trek around the city.

"Now, this was fine until we started getting bored and decided to have a race. The first one to reach the end of the market district would be the winner. The start of the race was good but something, I still do not know what, but something spooked both the horses and they bolted. We were young, small, and inexperienced; we had no hope of controlling them so all we could do was cling on for dear life and hope that they eventually calmed. The horses took us into the heart of the district, to the centre of Market Square."

"Oh no," whispered Rose.

"Oh yes. We realized exactly why the stables had been devoid of life. It was market day, and everyone was there, all packed into the square. The horses just kept on going, people were knocked over, stalls smashed, produce ruined. It was not long after the market square that the horses stopped. We both looked at each other and burst out laughing. That had to be the single scariest and most exhilarating thing in our short lives, and we were in one piece and still on the horses. We could hardly believe it.

"The city guard found us pretty quickly and marched us back up to the castle, to King Octo. It was awful. I had expected him to shout and roar at us, even strike us but he did neither. He just stood there looking down at us with dismay and an expression of such disappointment that it was so much worse than if he had been angry. He listed out all the damage and destruction we had caused and the people we had hurt and then left us. The pair of us had never felt so ashamed in our lives. We vowed that day that we would never do something so rash, irresponsible and childish again."

Jack fell into a moment’s silent reflection before he looked up grinning. "That vow lasted all of three weeks."

The rest of the day passed in a pleasant, amicable way.

Novem returned to the group and while he remained his normal distant self, Rose felt just a little less daunted by him and her situation.

They began to make their way back to the castle as the sun set, casting burnt orange rays of light on the canopy and making the silver leaves burn bright like flames. It really was beautiful, Rose thought watching the passing trees as the carriage descended down the mountain.

She let her eyes drift closed and when she opened them a while later, the carriage was pulling up in front of the palace. Novem tapped on the door, waiting for the servants to open it, and put down the step. Then he descended and offered his hand to her. “My Lady.”

Rose reached out nervously to take it.

Novem led her into the palace where they bide good evening to Jack and Gwen before walking in silence to Rose’s room.

“Good night, Rose,” Novem said, stepping back.

Rose pushed open the door, “Good night, Novem.”

~~*~~

Beyond the basics Rose had very little knowledge of the intricate details of a noble wedding, especially a royal one. To remedy this and to ensure that Rose knew the proper procedure she was to get instruction from a Mr Finch.

Mr Finch, as Jack had mentioned the previous week was a peculiar man; he cut a tall, stern, and intimidating figure even for one with no title.

Mr Finch, straight backed and inflexible, paced before Rose with a dour air about him. “You may of course, have some acquaintance with the customary nobility engagement and wedding procedures. However, there are certain particular deviations for the royal procedures, all of which I shall endeavour to impart to you over the course of the proceeding weeks.”

He paused before adding, “His Majesty has made his intentions known to you and you have agreed, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.”

Mr Finch proceeded to give Rose an in-depth description of the stages of courtship and the myriad of social do’s and don’ts.

Why she needed to know any of this, she did not know. She had to hide her relief when the lesson finally came to an end.

“We shall leave it there for today. Next week we will be looking at the engagement and wedding.”

Having been set free Rose went in search of Martha and found her in her rooms. Much to Rose’s chagrin, Martha could not stop laughing when Rose relayed the lesson to her.

“You may be marrying the King but there is a heavy price to pay! Rather you than me!”

“Your sympathy is overwhelming me,” Rose said as she picked up a small cushion and throw it at Martha.

Martha’s laugh turned into a shriek as she dived for cover, the cushion sailing passed her head to the right of her.

“If it is war you want, it is war you will get!” Martha rallied and launched her own pillow attack and flung two cushions at Rose.

For the next twenty minutes the two young women battled it out, couches and chairs became vital pieces of cover and every cushion and small pillow became much needed ammo.

The joy and uncomplicated happiness Rose felt in those minutes was what she needed and what she would have to call on in the face of the Gallifreyan court gossip.

~~*~~

Novem had been having a rather pleasant day. The outing with Rose the previous week had gone very well, and she had begun her lessons with Mr Finch. The morning had been a bright and clear, training had gone well, there had been no insipid courtiers at his door, and the pile of papers he had to read and go through was relatively small. But this all changed with the arrival of Lynda with a Y.

Lady Lynda Moss, who frequently introduced herself as Lynda with a Y, bustled into the room with all her usual chirpiness. Novem liked Lynda, she was a sweet young woman who showed true loyalty to the crown. Although at times her hopeful optimism and her concern for what others thought of her overpowered her sense of judgement. Today was one of those days.

"I have just heard!" she said with gusto and setting herself down on the chair opposite him.

"Crosbie told me as soon as I got here. I had barely set my feet on solid ground when she came barrelling into me. Nearly knocked me down, mind you. She said to me, 'Have you heard?' 'Heard what?' I say, ‘I have been up in Equium Quinque for the past few months; news does not travel that far north no matter how scandalous’. 'You will never guess what has happened,' she says and then tells me of the engagement. 'The King to be married to a Baroness, preposterous' I said."

"Lynda, don't," he interjected but she continued without hearing him.

"'No,' she said, 'It is true. The ball was only a week ago.' You are engaged to a Baroness! It is not true, surely?"

“It is true, I assure you,” Novem replied through gritted teeth.

“But you cannot wish to marry her. She is a nothing. A nobody.” There was a pause before she continued. “She is pretty, I grant you that, but that could not have possibly had influenced your decision when seeking such a humble bride-”

“Stop right there,” Novem did not shout but the command in the tone was no longer an implication. “I recommend that you pause and think before speaking further.”

His voice dropped to just above a whisper and Lynda visibly deflated. “Here are the facts, and you will do well to remember them. Lady Rose Tyler is neither a nothing, nor a nobody. Within the twelve month she will be Her Highness, Queen of Gallifrey. It will do you no good to hint that I am only after her looks, since we will both gain much from the union.”

“But you have lost by her marriage, have you not? You could have married a Princess but instead you scrap the bottom of the barrel, the lowest of the low, a Baroness.”

“I have done nothing of the kind. I have chosen the quality of my Queen over that of title and status. It is a decision I would make time and time again. Now, the decision is made so you need not trouble yourself any further over the arrangement of my marriage. If I hear of any interference from you in the matter, if you make even the slightest public objection, I will take whatever action is necessary to ensure your ruin. You are dismissed.”

Lynda stared at him for several moments, not comprehending the situation. When she had left three months ago all had been right with the world and she came back to find everything on its head. She just could not understand why the King would go and get engaged to a Baroness. It was unfathomable, it was just not how things were done. How would it reflect on the kingdom?

At last she stood and left the room, her cheeriness quite diminished. She would always remain loyal to the King, but she could not help but fear that such a weak marriage would put the kingdom in danger somehow.

~~*~~

Everywhere she went Rose heard whispers, whispers of how she had used duplicitous means to seduce and snare the King.

“So, is that the woman the King has decided to marry?”

“Is it not rather unorthodox for a King to marry anyone lower than a Duchess?”

"I wonder what he could see in a lowborn noble such as her."

"And that would be her? Not a woman of his standing, not for a second."

“Surely, the King could never marry someone as lowborn as her.”

A number of times Rose would confront the gossiping courtiers, pulling herself up straight and answering in a steady decisive voice, “Yes, I am the woman the King has chosen to marry. What of it?”

In each case the courtier would back down when confronted, with a murmured apology and a claim not to cause offence.

After a couple of weeks, she could take no more of it. Whatever gossip and pressure she was facing, it was surely nothing compared to what the King was going through. He was an honourable man, and she knew he would not end the engagement of his own volition. She would have to bring up the matter herself.

She went to his study one afternoon and found him sat behind a stack of papers and correspondence.

“Is something the matter?” he asked eyeing her curiously.

Rose fidgeted a little as she tried to find the right words. “I think, that is to say, I believe...” she paused, took a deep breath, and began again. “Perhaps you might wish to call a halt to our marriage. It is not too late to have second thoughts. And I would not fault you for it.”

“Because the court does not approve?” He made no attempt to hide the truth from her.

He laid down his quill and stood, moving around the desk to stand in front of Rose. “What business is it of theirs? The kingdom will remain whole and strong regardless. When they marry, they will not wish me to trail along, giving offence and offering advice where none was requested. I recommend that you ignore them as I intend to.”

When Rose still looked unconvinced, he placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder, “The court is very resistant to any sort of change or what they see as an inconvenience. They are also a petty and small-minded group. Pay them no heed. Our engagement will not change, they will just have to get used to it.”

His resoluteness about their engagement reassured Rose to no end.

“Thank you.”

“We are engaged Rose, if you have any troubles or worries, I am here for you.”

Rose felt her heart swell with gratitude and with a rush of happiness she stood up on her toes and kissed him chastely on the cheek in thanks, before scurrying out of the room blushing.

~~*~~

It was a few days later before Rose saw the King again. He had sent a note to her asking to her to join him for lunch.

The lunch itself was a quiet affair, not that either of them seemed to mind too much, it was good to have some tranquillity amid the constant bustle of court life.

It was only after lunch that Novem revealed his true purpose for inviting her. He stood and offered her his arm, “Let me show you your home.”

Linking her arm with his Novem led Rose down a long corridor to doors that led to the royal apartments.

They entered the King’s apartments first, which were set over three floors. A long gallery hung with family portraits ran along the front on one side of the first floor. Rooms entered into more rooms, a bedchamber and dressing room, bath chamber, dining room, three sitting rooms, music room, games room, and a second vast study with book lined walls and soft leather chairs. There were also a small set of rooms for the King’s valet and other essential servants.

They moved onto the Queen’s apartments, now Rose’s, which mirrored the King’s with some slight differences. The room were decorated with more feminine colours of pale blues, greens and yellows, creams and beiges, compared to their male counterparts and the style and arrangement was elegant but simple. There was only one sitting rooms rather than three, but there was the addition of a small hall for evening dances.

Housed also in the Royal Apartments were The Prince and Princess’s rooms and a temple with four alters, one to each of the two Gods and two Goddesses.

Rose would not move into the apartment until after the wedding, but she could still use the study and music room should she wish to.

They had remained relatively silent throughout the tour; the silence was only punctuated by Rose’s exclamations of awe and wonder at the rooms. Novem, captivated by Rose’s bright-eyed beauty and her enthusiasm, did not wish to spoil the moment with awkward small talk.

The tour culminated back in Novem’s study, where there were light refreshments ready and waiting from them.

“It is all so beautiful,” Rose said, talking a small sip of wine. “I do not feel I will be ready, to be Queen, for the responsibility,” Rose confessed.

“No one is ready to be royalty, not even someone who was raised to be King.”

Rose looked up at Novem, surprised by his statement which carried so much vulnerability.

“Being royalty is not easy,” he continued, “It is not all about balls and parties and getting others to do things for you. Much is expected of you and you are responsible for even more.”

Novem paused and turned to look out the window, leaning elegantly against the window frame. “The royalty has both more responsibilities as well as advantages compared to the peerage. A royal title such as mine comes with immense power and control. In many years it is a gift, but in some it is a burden.”

“A burden?” Rose stood and approached the window.

“Maintaining foreign relations, avoiding war or organising one, internal court politics, providing safety for the subjects, managing the rents, dealing with famines and plagues, resolving feuds ... the list goes on.” He turned to Rose and gave her a reassuring smile, “But it is always easier when you have someone standing by your side.”

Rose smiled self-consciously at his belief in her. Feeling far more comfortable in his presence that she had before, Rose voiced another of her worries. “But there are all these court intricacies that are so new and complicated. I can barely keep up with them now, never mind when I am Queen.”

"The minutiae of the Royal court are confusing to even the best people, even to the aristocracy."

"Even you?" she asked looking up into his unfathomable blue eyes.

"Even me," he replied in mock seriousness.

"Thank goodness. Then we shall make a pact never to discuss that particular topic when we are wed."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "I promise I shall make a note of it," he said laughingly, "and the subject will never pass my lips."

Rose liked to hear him laugh, it gave his stern features a tranquil benevolence she had once not thought possible.

He was exceedingly handsome, she thought as he gazed down at her, a smile playing on his lips and laughter dancing in his eyes.

Rose furrowed her brow and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Small and uncertain her hand rose between them. She paused, her hand hovering mid-air and for a moment she almost drew it back.

Novem saw the resolution in her eyes as she extended her arm and then he felt the butterfly touch of her fingers tracing a path along his jaw. He closed his eyes. Her warm hand slid over his shoulder and came to rest on his chest. When he opened his eyes again her mouth beckoned and he had to taste it.

His gaze fixed, he mirrored her earlier movement, raising his hand and brushing the smooth skin of her jaw. Her breath hitched and he ran his fingers into the smooth knot of hair at her nape and cupped her jaw. Before she could move, he had pulled her into an embrace that brought her right up against him. He leaned in and kissed her.

When he deepened his kiss Rose’s heart began to hammer like the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. Shyly she slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, holding him close and kissing him back. All she was conscious of was Novem's mouth and his body pressed to hers. She had no thoughts, only feelings, and they filled her with such a sense of languorous pleasure that she seemed to be floating.

It was a kiss that would later on that evening have her blushing at its very thought of it, much to her frustration. She was not naïve in such matters and yet the fact that it was the King, rather than anyone else, doing the kissing made her feel like it was her first kiss all over again.

***


	16. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem

The following week Rose found herself once again sitting in Mr. Finch’s office. A small fire was lighting in the grate to keep away the chill of winter as he droned on and on about this protocol and that protocol.

“The wedding day is the most important event in a Gallifreyan girl's life. It is the day her mother has prepared her for from the moment she was born. The Gallifreyan girl knows no other ambition than she will marry, and she will marry well. Now, the wedding itself and the events leading up to the ceremony are steeped in ancient traditions and customs....”

When at last she could escape from the office Rose practically flew to her rooms, she hardly knew where her feet were taking her just as long as it was away from that odious man and his archaic traditions.

Once within the sanctity of her bedroom Rose threw herself face down onto her bed and groaned. There was a quiet knock on the door, Rose muttered a barely audible, “Come in,” and Martha stepped into the room.

As Martha entered the room Rose turned onto her back and covered her eyes with her right arm.

“I saw you passing on the third floor. How did it go?”

“Ech!”

Martha laughed, “That good?”

“It is all so old fashioned and stuffy. We were going over the wedding reception today, the decorations and the dinner. There will be an elaborated corner where we will have to receive the guests as they arrive. Oh, and as my maid of honour you will have to be there to help me.”

“Oh, will I now?” Martha joked.

“Mr Finch also said that if the weather is good enough then there will be tables set up outside in one of the gardens. And the entertainment, the music, singing, performances and dancing, will all be taken care of, so I do not need to worry my pretty little head about that.” Rose made a face at the last bit.

“He actually said that?” Martha asked incredulously.

“Yes. The man is insufferable!”

Martha laughed again. “I am sure you will find a way to get over it. The insufferably Mr Finch is a small price to pay for becoming Queen.”

~~*~~

Rose had written to her mother and Mickey in the days following the engagement to tell them the news. However, she grew quite dejected when there was no reply from either of them.

It was six weeks after she had sent the letters that she at last got a response, in person.

Rose had returned to her rooms after a long morning walk in the gardens and came back to find her mother standing in her sitting room.

“Mum!” Rose cried and ran to embrace her mother.

“Rose, you really should have told me you were getting engaged sooner. And to the King no less,” Jackie chided her daughter.

“But I did not know-”

“By the time your letter arrived I only found out two days before it was officially announced. I did not tell a soul except for Bev. And I had Sheeree’s mother around the very day of the announcement saying how I had kept that news very quiet. Well, I had to smile and simper and pretend I knew all along for I could hardly tell her I had only found out myself!”

“Oh, mum!”

She did love her mother but there were times when she really did get on Rose’s nerves. However, things settled down once Jackie felt she had admonished Rose enough for her lack of communication.

“Sarah and Stuart said to pass on their felicitations. They will absolutely be there for coronation, but they are not sure if they will make the wedding. They had planned on going travelling. Bev too sends on her congratulations and best wishes. She will be traveling up for the wedding and staying in town for until the coronation. Now, tell me everything.”

Rose’s plans for the rest of the day were soon forgotten as her mother demanded to know all the court gossip. It was only later that night after they had finished dinner that her mother told her that Mickey had arrived with her.

“Mickey? He is here? Why did you not tell me sooner? Oh, I have to go see him.”

Rose got up and was about to call Raffalo when Jackie stopped her.

“Rose, do not be ridiculous. You cannot go see him now. Look at what time it is. And you are certainly not seeing him without a chaperone.”

“Mum! Nothing would happen!”

“I know that, but the rest of the court does not. You might have been able to get away with that kind of carry on before but not anymore Rose. You are engaged to the King; you must be beyond reproach.”

Rose gave an annoyed huff.

“Invite him over tomorrow and I can chaperone.”

Rose eyed her mother. This was not how she wanted to reunite with Mickey, but it looked like she was not going to get any other choice.

So reluctantly, Rose wrote Mickey the invitation for the following day which he accepted.

~~*~~

The next day Mickey arrived at her rooms, Jackie and Raffalo providing discreet chaperones.

When he entered the room, Rose noticed how Mickey had changed since she had last seen him nearly two years ago. He walked taller and with more confidence. He had grown up.

They embraced and Rose gave him an appraising look up and down when she stepped back.

“What has changed?”

Mickey chuckled and sat down on the couch, “You know me too well. I did some work with the Royal Guards. Nothing major, just a few weeks training and exercises.”

Rose’s eyes widened; she certainly had not been expecting that.

“Oh, do not look so surprised. It was good training, and I met a good bunch of people out there. I even found my doppelganger!”

“Really? Wow, what is he like?”

“His name is Ricky. He is a good man, a bit hot-headed but a good man. There is also Jake and Mrs Moore. We make up a good team, got into a stop of trouble once or twice with the Captain but nothing that a good telling off did not sort out.”

“Sounds like you had a really good time.”

“Yes, I did,” Mickey paused and looked thoughtful for a few moments before continuing, “I am thinking of going back, of maybe going down south.”

“But that is where the skirmishes have started up again!”

“I know. But I cannot just sit around the place and do nothing. I need to do something, something worthwhile.”

The passion in his voice was undeniable but that did not stop Rose from worrying about how he could get injured or worse killed.

“You really want to go, don’t you?”

Mickey nodded.

Rose sighed and then threw her arms around him. Mickey was taken aback for a few seconds but returned the hug gratefully.

“Promise me that you will be careful.”

“I promise.”

After a pause Rose asked what she had wanted to ask since the King had proposed. “Are you angry with me? I promised not to forget you and end up getting engaged to the King.”

“No Rose, of course not!” Mickey took her hands in his. “The moment you received the letter I knew you would have your own path to follow, your own life to lead. I was cross at the time. I was being selfish, I wanted you to stay and be with me not go off to the capital. But as time passed, and certainly after my time in the Royal Guards, I began to, and now, see that we have our own lives to lead.”

He paused before bumping his shoulder into Rose’s, “Maybe in another life, another time, we ended up together.”

Rose smiled as she looked at Mickey, how he had changed, how mature he had gotten. In that moment she mourned the loss of Mickey, that other life where she had married him. He was a good man and the woman he married would be very lucky indeed.

“Yes,” she said, “Maybe in another life. Friends?”

“Always.”

~~*~~

Jack strolled down the corridor towards the King’s study, humming quietly to himself. He had heard Rose’s mother had arrived and he was quite intrigued to see how Novem would interact with his soon-to-be mother-in-law. Jack’s humming came to an abrupt end when as he neared the open door to the King’s study a middle-aged blonde-haired woman marched out, her head held high, with an air of authority akin to a governess’s. With raised eyebrows Jack watched the woman stride passed him without so much as a nod of acknowledgment until she disappeared around a corner.

Jack leaned around the door frame and peered into the study. He was greeted to the sight of a thoroughly bemused and bewildered Novem. Jack had not seen that look on Novem’s face since they were children.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to keep his amusement out of his voice.

“ _That_ was Rose’s mother. She just chastised me, warned me against hurting Rose. She chastised me. Me! The King!”

Jack laughed. “Well, at least we know where Rose gets her gumption from.”

Novem shook his head, “Gumption indeed.”

Jack did not stay long and quite some time after he had left Novem stood gazing out the window, his back to the room.

He was deep in thought, reminiscing of his childhood and the time just after his coronation, sparked by his encounter with Rose’s mother. It was a particular memory that had happened long ago, something so small that he had forgotten it, that had caught his attention.

Deciding to uncover the truth and discover if what he remembered was true, he ventured down the hall to a large, rarely used, room in his apartments.

The room was overcrowded and dusty, filled with rows upon rows of shelves and boxes.

These were Novem’s personal archives. At the beginning of his reign he had decided to keep all of his papers together in a personal archive, away from the main palace archives and prying eyes.

He moved slowly up and down the shelves of documents, a hand outstretched as he counted, until he found the right year. He then combed methodically through the files until at last he found the invoice and note. Next, he went looking in the boxes in the smaller adjacent room and found what he was looking for in the fifth box.

He laughed when he found it and shook his head in disbelief. He had remembered correctly.

The Gods and Goddesses certainly had a hand in it, of that he was sure.

~~*~~

Later that evening Rose called to Novem’s rooms. She had heard of her mother visit and knowing her mother’s temperament felt the need to make sure all was well after the call.

She found him focused intently on papers in front of him.

As she moved into the room, she noticed an old wooden toy on the desk alongside the files. It was a plaything she knew well; one she had had as child. But the toy on the desk was not her toy.

“Where did you get this?” she asked coming to a stop in front of the desk and reaching to pick up the model.

“It was a gift from my parents when I was a small child. It was a favourite of mine. I believe the creator died during the plague.”

“Yes,” Rose answered distractedly.

“But not of the plague,” Novem continued, his tone light and sincere but he watched Rose carefully.

“Yes, it was an accident,” Rose nodded absentmindedly, her attention focused on the toy in her hands, memories flooding her mind.

“It was not long after my parent’s deaths and it felt like an additional loss, that the creator for something that had meant so much to me also passed. I sent a note and condolence basket to his widow. They had had a young child, so I sent on a hobby horse for her. A small token, in the hope that she may receive some joy from it like I had from her father’s creation.”

“It was one of my father’s toys, from one of his ventures,” Rose continued, turning the toy in her hands, appearing not to have heard the rest of Novem’s tale.

Then she went still, his words slowly sinking in. She looked up sharply, “A red hobby horse with a black mane, and a purple bow around its neck.” It was both a statement and a question.

“Yes.” Novem inclined his head.

Rose’s eyes widened. “You? You sent me that hobby horse?” she asked incredulous.

Novem’s lips twitched upwards, “It would appear so. It was only this afternoon after your mother called on me that I began to remember.”

Rose sank into the chair next to her.

“So, all this time we have had a connection? You this toy, and me the hobby horse.”

Novem nodded, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his short hair. “I feel as if the Gods and Goddesses have had a hand in this.”

“Indeed. It would appear as if they have. It is quite a coincidence otherwise.”

Rose replaced the toy on the desk. “I only called to check after my mother’s visit.”

Novem gave a huff of laughter, “She is a formidable woman, your mother.”

Rose smiled sheepishly.

“There is nothing for you to worry about. Your mother acted as any mother would and I would not fault her, or you, for it.”

“Thank you,” Rose said as she stood to leave.

Novem inclined his head. “Good evening, Rose.”

Rose bowed, “Good evening, Novem.”

***


	17. Wedding Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem  
> One = Unum

Over the next several weeks Rose’s lessons with Mr Finch continued and during that time she noticed that Mickey and Martha had been spending quite some time together and had been getting on very well. She sensed a growing connection between them and while she was pleased for both of them, she could not help the small part of her that was sad that both she and Mickey were moving on, and that their childhood romance had come to an end.

Mickey and Martha suited each other, she thought. The military training Mickey had completed had enabled him to grow and change and his newfound confidence matched Martha’s spirit and ambition to continue her medical training. They would do well together.

At last Rose’s lessons with Mr Finch came to an end and Rose could not have been happier to see the back of them. The final lesson had been about the honeymoon, which as with everything else, was going to be different for her than it would be for most other newly married aristocratic couples.

While for most of her peers there was a honeymoon period straight after the wedding this was not the case for royalty. It was Gallifreyan custom that the marriage would not be consummated for a period of six months, this was to ensure that the couple were adequately familiar each other and worked out any issues before starting a family and for the honeymoon the couple would normally go to one of the in-law’s country estates, leaving after the wedding banquet, late at night.

On the other hand, royal couples, including Rose and Novem, while still observing the six-month honeymoon period would not be leaving the palace after the wedding. Novem was needed to continue running the kingdom and Rose would learn what was expected of her as Queen and the day-to-day running of the palace. It was only when the honeymoon period was completed that Rose would have her coronation and be officially crowned Queen.

~~*~~

During her lessons with Mr Finch, Rose had been informed that she would have to write vows for the wedding; the vows consisted of four things that she would offer Novem and four things she would ask for in return; one offer and ask for each God and Goddess.

The process of writing her vows had been going nowhere fast for Rose and she had spent many an evening sat staring at a black piece of paper hoping that the Gods and Goddesses would grant her some inspiration. Unfortunately, they did not appear to be in a generous mood.

One cold late winter evening she forced herself to sit down and write them. Dragging herself over to the writing desk she gazed at the paper.

What was she supposed to write? With a sigh she drew a line down the middle of the page and wrote _Offers_ on one side and _Requests_ on the other.

Right, so what could she offer the King? Well, there was her fertility. No, she thought shaking her head; she could not say that it would be too embarrassing. But it was true...

With a cringe Rose wrote _Fertility?_ on the left-hand side of the page.

More silent pondering followed. What did she think of him? Well, she admired him, so maybe she could offer admiration?

_Admiration_ joined _Fertility_.

Her eyes drifted around the room seeking some form of inspiration. Her mind wandered and abstract, half formed thoughts weaved through her mind. They were just so very different as people. He could be so dower sometimes, well, most of the time and she was most definitely not. She was not naive exactly, but she was a bit idealistic. But being idealistic was not a bad thing, she thought, it meant she was full of hope and optimism.

She wrote _Idealism_ under _Admiration_.

Alright, she thought, three down and one more to go. What else could she offer him?

She needed to get these vows right, she would be saying them in front of the entire court. If she got them wrong court would never let her forget it. Rose huffed. Court was not an easy place to live; you always had to watch your back lest you find a metaphorical dagger in it. Given that, perhaps ... perhaps she could offer loyalty? Yes, she thought that would be perfect.

With her _Offers_ completed Rose turned her focus to the _Requests_.

What did she want from him? Well, she wanted to be respected. Could she ask for that? It was reasonable enough so why not.

_Respect_ went on the right-hand column.

He knew so much more than she did, he had experienced so much more. Experience? No, that did not sound right. Knowledge was not bad, she thought, but still not quite right. Rose tapped her foot in agitation as she tried to think of any other words that encapsulated what she wanted to say. She was halfway through writing _Knowledge_ when she suddenly had an ‘Ah-ha’ moment. _Wisdom_. She could ask for his wisdom.

She looked over at the _Idealism._ Perhaps something to balance her idealism. Could she ask for his realism? No, that did not sound right. But what else could she say? Her foot began tapping again as she tried to find a word that would fit. Something to balance her idealism. Balance her idealism. Balance. That’s it!

She hastily scribbled down _Balance_.

Last one. He always gave her advice, when she had been worried he had given her words of encouragement. He seemed so unfazed by the court gossip or the backlash from marrying her. He took it all in his stride. He had a lot of courage. Rose’s mind locked onto the word courage and with a triumphant grin she wrote it down in the right-hand column.

Rose stretched out her arms in relief as she looked down at her eight words. It had taken her quite some time to come up with them, far longer than she had hoped. But they were done now. Well almost done, she had two words already paired so all that was left was to match the remaining six words into three pairs.

~~*~~

Having finished her vows Rose spent the following day immersed in further preparations for the wedding.

Over the weeks there had been dance lessons, rehearsals for the ceremony, learning the guest list, but at the moment the focus was on the dress.

And so, Rose found herself bombarded with questions and decisions as she stood in the dressmaker’s shop - what colours, what materials, the shape, and the style. Reams of lush and decadent material were strewn across the shop on tables and chairs, over manikins and even on the floor. The material glistened in the candlelight, the windows having been covered over to prevent any passers-by from catching a glimpse.

Martha provided a much needed second pair of eyes and between Martha and herself, the shop owner and the numerous shop girls they finally managed to agree on a colour scheme, a brown and orange gown that would emulate an autumn forest glistening as a brilliant sun burned in the sky. The colours would also imitate half of the royal crest’s blue and orange colour scheme.

The seamstress took her measurements and the dressmaker promised to send up a selection of sketches for Rose to choose from first thing in the morning.

Decisions made Rose and Martha made their way back up to the castle, wrapped up tight against the cold as the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the snow-covered ground, the palace guards following close behind.

The pair parted ways on the first floor, Rose meeting up with her mother to discuss the wedding dress and Martha meeting up with a ‘friend.’ Rose suspected that friend was Mickey, but she did not pressure Martha. Martha would tell her when she was ready.

The scent hit her the moment she opened the door to her rooms. She knew that smell, so sweet and fresh.

“Oh, Rose, there you are,” her mother called bustling into the sitting room, a bouquet of green flowers in her hands. “A lovely handsome young man dropped these off for you earlier. He was so charming; much more than the King.”

Rose breathed in deep. Apple-Grass flowers. Her heart sank. _He_ had been here, and she had missed him! If only she had gone to the dressmaker the previous day, or even made the appointment for later in the day. She could have seen him!

“Did he say anything?” she asked, her voice full of hope.

“No, he just said that you would know who they were from and to wish you all the best.”

“Oh,” Rose’s heart sank a little further. She wished he had left note or something but he at least he was not still angry with her and that was something.

Rose gazed at the flowers her heart clenching as a mixture of emotions churned within her.

“Rose, are you alright?” her mother questioned.

Rose inhaled sharply, the sweet smell of the flowers filling her senses, and tore her eyes from the flowers. “Yes, I am fine. It has just been a very long and busy day. So many decisions, you know?”

“Oh, yes of course. You must tell me all about it. What did you choose?”

With her mother’s curiosity diverted to the wedding dress, Rose relaxed a little, although she still found her eyes constantly drifting to the flowers.

~~*~~

Rose had thought that the preparations for the engagement party had been an ordeal but now she realised how very wrong she had been. The engagement party had been a veritable walk in the park compared to the current wedding preparations. She had not realised just how many staff were employed by the castle, but they were everywhere and anywhere at all times. She could not turn a corner without nearly running into a horde of them.

Her excitement was tainted somewhat by the constant presence of Apple-Grass flowers. The scent followed her around the castle as an ever-present reminder of _him._ Even as she was poked and prodded by seamstresses and dressmakers, she could always smell them. She could not just throw the flowers out; her mother would never stop asking her why and she could not give her a good reason without greatly disappointing her mother.

When the flowers were at last beginning to die Rose thought she might at last get some respite from the constant reminders and heartache, but that was not to be the case. She returned to her rooms late one evening having asked Raffalo to get rid of the dying flowers that morning only to find an entirely new bouquet in her sitting room.

Rose admonished Raffalo for replacing them without her permission and quickly regretted the outburst when Raffalo defended herself and said that they had been delivered anonymously in the early afternoon by another maid.

She could not forget him, and he certainly did not want her to. Oh, she could not do this. She could not cope with her mind and heart so divided. How could she go through with the wedding and the coronation? She needed time. Time to think, time to work things out, time to figure out what she wanted, _who_ she wanted. But that would mean asking Novem a very difficult question. Could she ask him? Would he allow it? Did she have any choice but to ask him?

~~*~~

It was several days before Rose had built up the courage to ask Novem for time. A queasy feeling of nervousness persisted even as she knocked on the door and heard him call, “Enter!”

When she looked at his head bent over some papers a wave of apprehension swept over her. There was tightness around her throat, a hollow in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes, what is it?” he asked without looking up.

“Your Majesty, Novem, would you spare me a moment? I ... there is something I wish to discuss with you.”

Novem raised his head and wary eyes looked back at her. She seemed uneasy. Clearly something of a serious nature was on her mind.

“Oh? Is it important?”

“Yes, very.”

His curiosity piqued, he gestured for her to sit across from him. “Then you had better sit down.”

“No,” she said quickly, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “I would rather stand, if you do not mind.”

Novem pushed back his chair and standing up, walked slowly round the desk to stand in front of her. “As you wish. What is it, Rose? Are you ill?”

“No,” she was quick to reassure him. “It is nothing like that.”

“Then what is the matter?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest, and resting his hips against the desk.

Rose turned her back to him and walked to the window. Looking out, she knew her next words could be the turning point in their relationship, for better or for worse.

Novem found himself wondering if she had forgotten he was there. He had grown tense in the silence but at last she turned and looked at him, her expression one of apprehension and trepidation.

“I have a condition in regard to our marriage.”

“A condition?” he queried; eyebrows raised.

Rose nodded and tilted her chin up ever so slightly to meet his eyes. “Yes. After the coronation ... I will need time after the coronation ... time before we consummate the marriage.”

“What?” He was incredulous. “Why?”

“I ... I just need time. Please understand.”

“I do,” he ground out, angry now and insulted. He could guess what, no _who_ , was the reason for this.

He stared at her severely for several moments before continuing, “If we marry on your terms our life will be a whole series of charades and false fronts. Do you really think you will be strong enough to keep it up when we are sharing these rooms, living together, being watched day in and day out by all and sundry?”

“I would hope so.”

He snorted. “I am sure you would.” He paused, taking a calming breath before speaking again in a softer, more provocative tone. “It would be interesting to see if this _agreement,_ ” he drew out the word in a sultry tone, “Would survive the testing of time and proximity.”

Feeling that he had turned the tables on her, restlessly Rose moved away from his searching eyes.

“I need an heir to carry my family name and sit on the throne when I am gone.” His eyes locked with hers.

“But-” she began, shaking her head, rejecting his statement. He held up a hand to silence her.

“I will have an heir. However, I will also give you time to adjust.”

Rose signed in relief. “Thank you.”

“I will not wait forever, Rose.”

“I know. I just need some time.”

Novem gave a small nod of his head and sat back behind his desk.

Rose taking her cue to leave, slipped out the room and closed the door behind her.

On hearing the door close Novem counted to ten before slamming his fist down on the desk.

Damn that man! Damn Decem for all eternity! Would he never be rid of him?!

Burying his head in his hands Novem growled in frustration. He pushed his chair back and stood. He would get no more work done today. He might as well go do something halfway useful and take one of the horses out for a gallop. Hopefully that would take his mind off that vile, contemptible excuse of a man.

~~*~~

Rose and Novem’s relationship grew somewhat strained over the next few days, neither quite knowing what to say to the other. They did try and as the days went by, they spend more time together, often having lunch together or going for walks in the gardens. Day by day their conversations grew less stilted; however, they did not flow with complete ease.

One evening while walking through the gallery in the Royal Apartments one painting in particular caught Rose’s eye.

"Who is this?" Rose asked as she looked up at the painting before her. It was a painting of a woman with long dark hair in a mass of wavy curls, wearing a deep blue dress the same shade as the castle's marble.

"That is a painting of the woman who inspired King Unum to build this castle.”

Rose gave him a questioning look.

“Did you not learn of it from your governess?” he asked.

Rose gave him a sheepish look, but she also had a defiant gleam in her eyes. “I actually spent more time hiding from my governess than being taught by her.”

Novem gave a huff of laughter, “That reminds me of what Jack and I were like. So, you do not remember much of the story?”

Rose shook her head.

“Legend says that she was a low born maiden who Unum fell in love with, but as he was a high-born Lord his family was set against the match and threatened to disown him. The lovers would not be separated and so Unum took as much of his fortune as he could, and they ran away together eventually arriving in this land. They were married and Unum set about building the finest, most magnificent palace for his wife." Novem paused here.

"But something happened, did it not?"

"Yes, it did. They lived happily together for many years, but she fell ill and passed away. Unum was never the same after her death and became more abrasive, patronising, and cantankerous. It is said that he favoured his granddaughter Susan above the rest of his family. There is a great likeness between Susan and her grandmother, and it is believed that she also had her grandmother’s spirit and strength. Susan's portrait is hanging down the gallery should you ever wish to see it."

"Why do you not know her name?" Rose inquired, again looking at the painting.

"There is no record of her name anywhere. It has been removed from all official records that have been found from that time. It is believed that on her death Unum was so consumed with grief that he had every mention of her name destroyed and forbade it from being spoken. As time passed even those that knew her, or knew of her, got too used to not speaking or writing about her that they never passed it on to the following generations and overtime her name was lost altogether."

"How sad, to be in so much pain as to ban the very mention of her name."

“Hmm, quite.”

Novem left Rose to her thoughts as she continued to look up at the painting lost in thoughts of Unum and his wife and their tragic fairy tale love.

~~*~~

The discussion on Unum and his wife must have reminded Novem of Rose’s lack of knowledge on ruling, for it was a few days later during a particularly wet Spring morning, that Rose experienced her first real test at ruling.

They were eating a late breakfast together in the royal apartments when Novem spoke up. “The trail for those traitors and would-be assassins, the Slitheen and Cassandra, is coming up shortly.”

Rose looked up from her bowl of chopped fruit, eyes wide and a curious expression on her face. “What will happen to them?”

“I confess I have not decided. It is a delicate matter. They are peers both in this court and in foreign courts and yet they planned on assassinating me. If I give them a light punishment it would be pointless and counterproductive. It would not reprimand them, nor would it discourage others from doing the same. Yet, if I have them executed, I risk angering both those in this court and in the Slitheen court. Although, the Slitheenians have denied any involvement and condemned what was done, they would not take kindly to some of their kinsmen meeting their end by my hand.”

“It is quite a predicament.”

"And what would you do?"

"Me?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, you."

"I eh...."

Rose furrowed her brow in thought. What would she do?

After several minutes of silence she finally answered, "I would send them to work in the mountains.”

Novem stared at her, not giving away any hint of what he thought. "Why?"

"Throwing them in the dungeon is what everyone, what they, expect and that partly negates the punishment. Killing them would just add more fuel to the fire and insight more distrust and aggravation between the kingdoms, as you said. By sending them to the workhouses then they would be utterly humiliated. They are peers, to them working is worse than life in a cell. Working would break them but to the outside world, diplomatically, it is being kinder with the illusion of some sort of freedom. They have committed a crime against the crown, and they need to work to compensate for it."

Novem nodded, "Very good. That is what we shall do."

"What? You are actually going to do what I said?"

"Of course. It is a sensible, well thought out solution and," he paused as the corners of his lips twitched upwards in a partial smile, "I like it."

"Truly?"

He nodded again.

"You are to be Queen of this kingdom, my Queen and as such you will need to know how to rule. If anything happens to me and the heir is not of age,” Rose blushed as this part, “You will have to rule. You will not be on your own, others like Donna, Sarah, and Jack will help and guide you but you will need to have the confidence to and be able to make your own decisions, important and diplomatic decisions. You have common sense and a quick mind, not traits most would normally value in a woman but traits I value, traits that my Queen would need to have."

Rose did not know how to respond to such a speech, but she was exceedingly pleased with his praise.

~~*~~

True to his word, the following week at the trial Novem gave his judgement.

The Slitheen and the former Lady Cassandra, flanked by guards, stood before the King in the Throne Room as he called out their fate - forty years of hard labour in the mountain work houses to pay back for their crimes at which point their sentence would be re-evaluated.

The looks of abject horror on the prisoners’ faces were enough for both Rose and Novem to know that the right decision had been made.

***


	18. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem  
> Benedic hanc unionem: Bless this union  
> Doctor = Medicus

The morning of the wedding arrived with unnerving speed and it was with some apprehension that Rose awoke to the sound of servants setting up her breakfast. Tentatively she climbed out of bed a knot of butterflies already making her queasy.

The morning dawned sunny with the tentative warmth of early spring. A good omen Rose hoped as she began to pick at the food in front of her.

While munching on some fresh fruit Rose gazed down at the invitation next to her plate of food. It was a copy of the invitation to the wedding, her wedding, the one that was commencing in only a few hours. Rose shook her head as she read it, it did not seem real.

_His Royal Highness King Novem of the Medicus Dynasty,_

_And Baroness Rosabel Tyler of Arcadia,_

_Invite you to witness their binding in matrimony,_

_At the Royal Palace in Gallifrey city,_

_On the morning of Saturday_ _twenty-first of February_

_At twelve o'clock in the afternoon._

Raffalo arrived just as Rose was finishing her breakfast and immediately began fussing over her. The commotion provided a welcome distraction from the pre-wedding nerves and the invitation that kept drawing her gaze.

It was sometime later before the full bridal entourage arrived, including her mother, Martha, Sally, and Clara. Rose found herself being pulled, poked, and prodded as everyone tried to get her ready.

After what seemed like an eternity the dressmakers, hairstylists and jewellers stepped back, each nodding in satisfaction, and Rose could at last get a look at the final product.

The wedding dress was one of the most ornate and lavish things that Rose had ever seen. The dress was a rich chocolate brown with tiger orange accents, made through a combination of silk and lace. It had a tight-fitting bodice, a full skirt that fell in waves from her hips, and long sleeves that extended down to her hands in intricate lace patterns. The brown bodice was overlain with delicate and intricate patterns sewn in fire orange thread. Orange lace edged the dress, along the ends of each of the skirt waves, the end of the skirt and the top of the bodice. Around her neck was a brown and orange chocker with fire opals, brown smoky quartz and diamonds hanging from it. Her hair was intricately up styled with diamond pins and a few strands falling delicately about her face. A tiara of diamonds and orange sapphires was placed gracefully on her head and with a pair of matching earrings. Her wrists and hands were free of any other jewellery.

The rich brown of the dress gave her skin a warm and sun kissed glow and the simmering orange accents and accessories highlighted her striking green eyes.

The four women gave small gasps and ‘ohhs’ as they gazed at Rose.

“Oh Rose, you look beautiful, like a Sun Goddess,” Martha said.

Martha’s dress consisted of a bodice and flowing skirt with an intricate lace overlay that was a lighter shade of brown than Rose’s. There was a light orange sash tied at her hips. The lighter shade of the dress showed off and beautifully complimented Martha’s dark skin.

In contrast, Sally and Clara wore dark orange dresses and brown sashes similar in style to Martha’s.

There was a loud knock at the door and Mickey entered the room and beamed as he took in the room.

He hugged Rose with an almost bone crushing intensity. "You are beautiful, Rose. I hope his Majesty knows how lucky he is."

Mickey was wearing a new suit and looked rather handsome himself. Rose sensed Martha’s hand in it.

"Thank you for doing this," she whispered into his shoulder, trying to keep hold of her emotions.

There was a sudden clatter and crash as Jackie knocked over an ornate vase from the mantelpiece, before dashing from the room crying, “Merciful Goddess!”

“What is her problem?” Rose bit out as she watched her mother’s retreating back. “It is not like it is her wedding day, she does not have anything to be worried about.”

“Oh, Rose,” Mickey shook his head and gave Rose a frank stare. “Can you not see? She is losing her daughter, not just to marriage but to the King in a faraway city. She feels lost and is afraid you will nt need her anymore.”

“That is ridiculous!” Rose exclaimed, worry lacing her tone. Her shoulder sagged as she realised the truth of Mickey’s words. “She is my mother; I will always need her.

“Well, maybe you should tell her that.”

Mickey left to find Jackie and soon they both returned. Rose looked at her mother, beautifully dressed but with red eyes from crying and a tense face.

“Oh, mum.” Rose threw out her arms and hugged her mother with all her might, tears threatening to spill from her own eyes. “I promise I will write more, and you will have to visit me every few months, ok?”

Jackie could not say anything but squeezed Rose tighter. Jackie eventually pulled back and kissed Rose on the forehead. “It’s just ... my little girl is gone and while a beautiful young woman stands in her place, I will miss my little girl.”

“I love you, mum. And I will always need you,” Rose whispered.

They embraced again before the final preparations began.

~~*~~

The final minutes before the ceremony seemed to drag, but finally Jackie was leaving the room, kissing Rose on the forehead once more and reminding her to breathe. "You are such a beautiful bride, Rose. If you get nervous, remember you have your father’s bravery."

Rose hugged her mother, her eyes tearing up. "I have your spirit too. Thank you for everything, I love you."

"No more tears now. It is time and you do not want the court to think you are unhappy, you know how they love to gossip."

Rose nodded and allowed Jackie to wipe away any trace of tears with a gentle hand and then her mother was gone. Then it was time for her to go too, and she was so grateful that she had Mickey beside her as they stepped out of the room and made their way down the corridor to the Great Hall.

Sally and Clara entered the Hall first, followed by Martha, and then it was their turn.

“Ready?” Mickey asked with a smile as the stood outside the door.

Rose took a deep breath and with a smile of her own replied, “Ready.”

The doors opened and the pair stepped into the hall. There were several hundred people, all staring at her, some standing to get a better look. It was a bit overwhelming at first and Rose struggled to keep a serene smile on her face. She just hoped it did not look like a grimace.

Royal guards stood sentinel in bright liveries. Several artists were dotted throughout the crowd, all hastily sketching the scene from different angles as Mickey walked her down the aisle between the seats towards the dais where her soon-to-be husband waited.

Rose noticed as she moved closer to Novem how magnificent he looked, dressed in a splendid dark burnt orange jacket, obsidian black pants, mahogany brown waistcoat, white shirt and cravat, and dark leather boots. His tall and broad shoulders threw a shadow across the dais. There was an undeniable aura of forcefulness, of power, about him.

He half turned to look at her so that he might watch her progress towards him. His face was serious, and it looked as if it had been sculpted from granite. Rose was not to know how he was fighting to control the strong rush of emotion that engulfed him at the sight of her, for she looked radiant.

As she walked down the aisle the choir began to sing. In clear crystalline voices the melody wove its way through the hall, swirling its angelic tune around the guests. With the choir’s beautiful voice and the dappled sunlight streaming in from the stain glass windows high above Rose felt as if she was no longer walking down the aisle but floating in a dream world. The Gods and Goddesses had plucked her from the earthly realm in Gallifrey and brought her to their majestic plane. The crowd fell away, and all Rose could see was the man at the top of the hall, the man she was to marry.

The officiant, a priestess of the God of Time, looked so old it was surely only thanks to the grace of the God of Time himself that she was still alive. The priestess’ had a shook of white hair and her stature so slight that it looked like a gust would blow her away. However, when she spoke, it was loud and clear and weighted with wisdom.

"Good afternoon, Lords and Ladies of the court. Today we gather to witness a beginning. For this woman and this man, it is the beginning of a personal journey. For our kingdom it is the beginning of a new era. On this day we look to the future, for the happiness and continuation of our Monarchy and the prosperity of our kingdom.

"And so we gather to witness the binding of this woman and man in matrimony. Now we call upon the Gods and Goddesses to bless them." She placed a thin cord of knotted silk around their clasped hands.

"We ask all present to bless this union."

At that, the assembly said, " _Benedic hanc unionem_."

The officiant went on, "We ask the God of Time to bless this union. We ask the God of Death to bless this union. We ask the Goddess of Life to bless this union. We ask the Goddess of Pain to bless this union." With each blessing, she placed another cord around their hands.

She turned to Rose. "Baroness Rosabel Tyler of Arcadia, you come to this man, of your own free will, without influence or malice."

"I do," she answered as instructed, her voice quiet yet certain.

She turned to Novem, “King Novem of the Medicus Dynasty, you come to this woman, of your own free will, without influence or malice."

"I do," he answered in a loud and clear voice that left no doubt about its truth

"Who gives this bride in marriage and whose blessings accompany her?"

Mickey stepped closer to the couple and smiled at Rose as he said, "I, Baron Mickey Smith, on behalf of the Tyler family, give Baroness Rosabel Tyler in marriage with our blessings,” before stepping away and taking his seat.

The officiant continued, "This union, blessed by the Gods and Goddesses, will be sealed by the vows; vows whereby they offer the best parts of themselves to the union and ask for the same in return. Baroness Tyler if you will begin."

Rose turned, swallowing her nerves, and said, “King Novem of the Medicus Dynasty, to you I offer my loyalty and I seek your respect. I offer my fertility and I seek your courage. I offer my idealism and I seek your balance. I offer admiration and I seek your wisdom."

Now it was Novem’s turn.

In his deep northern tone, he said, “Baroness Rosabel Tyler of Arcadia, to you I offer my protection and I seek your acceptance. I offer my ambition and I seek your intelligence. I offer my power and I seek your passion. I offer my love and I seek your happiness.”

Rose was quite taken aback by his last statement. It was not something she had been expecting but he spoke sincerely, as if he truly meant every word. And then he was looking at her, his eyes laying siege to hers, with an indefinable expression.

The priestess stepped up beside them and said, "By the Gods of Time and Death and the Goddesses of Life and Pain and these witnesses gathered here, I bind you."

The officiant removed the cord bindings and offered them the rings which they placed on each other’s fingers. Novem presented Rose with a gold banded ring with a large ruby in a claw setting.

The ruby was a special kind, only found in the northern most mountains in Gallifrey. It was a Crimson Moment Ruby, which seemed to burn with an internal fire at its centre. Rose gave Novem a sturdy gold band with elegant carvings of the ancient circular Gallifreyan script etched into its surface.

"May the rings you now wear be imbued with the qualities you have vowed to share with each other."

"Go forth from this place and be fruitful," she pronounced, "may the Gods and Goddesses make it so." The older woman indicated for them to turn around and face the guests.

Rose looked over the guests, a glittering crowd of courtiers, friends, and family. Sunlight streamed through the stain glass of the dome high above their head, creating dancing colours across their faces.

The High priestess announced to the cheering crowd, "It is my pleasure to present the King of Gallifrey and his Lady wife. You may seal your binding with a kiss."

Rose blushed as she turned toward Novem. It would have been awkward to share a public sign of affection with an ordinary noble man in front of such a large group, but to do so with the King was intimidating. However, his mouth was gentle on hers, as befitted the formal occasion in front of witnesses, and Rose soon forgot all embarrassment as the crowd began to cheer.

The newlywed pair made their way back down the aisle surrounded by a chorus of clapping and cheering.

~~*~~

It was customary for the newlywed royal couple to present themselves to the city and so before the wedding meal began Rose and Novem were escorted to a balcony on the castle’s ring wall which overlooked several streets.

Rose was quite surprised at the size of the large crowd that had turned out to see the new royal couple. Citizens of all backgrounds stood together in the streets, leaned out of windows, and were atop every climbable surface all craning to see the newlyweds. Young children too engrossed in their own games ran in and out of the crowd too.

A young soldier turned to saluted them before announcing them to the crowd.

“His Royal Highness King Novem and his Lady wife Rosabel.”

A big cheer went up from the crowd at the announcement, Novem began to wave at the crowd and Rose feeling quite awkward and embarrassed followed suit.

“I feel ridiculous,” she muttered and only at Novem’s snort did she realise she had said it out loud.

He gave her a sly side look and muttered back to her, “It feels less ludicrous the more you do it. That or you embarrass yourself so much doing it as a child that this feels positively normal.”

Rose flashed him a smile in thanks but before she could respond verbally someone from below shouted, “Kiss!” To which there was much laughter and encouragement from the crowd.

Rose shoot Novem a self-conscious look but he gave a half shrug of his shoulders and gave her a look that said ‘Well, we can’t disappoint them.’

Their kiss, as gentle as the one earlier, received tumultuous cheering and applause from the crowd and with a final wave the couple retreated back to the castle.

When they returned to the hall most of the guests had moved outside with only a few small groups remaining inside. Once outside, the royal couple stood in a special and elaborately decorated corner reserved for receiving the guests, just as Mr Finch had told Rose all those weeks ago.

Rose’s mother was the only surviving parent, so she alone congratulated the couple first, and then stood nearby.

Jack was next and bent to kiss Rose's cheek. "Congratulations, Rose, and to you too, Novem. I sincerely hope you will be happy together."

"My dear Rose," Martha enthused, rushing forward to embrace her as others began crowding around the newlyweds. "I wish you both every happiness." Martha stood near Rose to assist her, while ushers guided the guests to them.

So many people came to congratulate them that Rose could hardly remember faces, never mind names. But one person stood out from the others, Princess Jabe, of the Forest of Cheem.

She approached them about halfway through and introduced herself to Rose first. When she turned to Novem she smiled and held out her hands which he took before leaning in and kissing her cheek.

“Jabe, how lovely to see you. Thank you for coming all this way.”

“The pleasure is all mine dear Novem. Congratulations.”

Their familiarity unnerved Rose. Who was this woman how appeared to know her husband so much better than her? Who was a beautiful princess from a far-off kingdom? Who was closer in age, temperament, and status to Novem than she, Rose, ever could?

Rose felt a wave of jealous insecurity consume her; and it was to her immense relief that Princess Jabe moved on after a little more small talk with Novem.

There was still a long line of guest to greet and soon Rose forgot about Princess Jabe and her jealousy.

With the well-wishing done they proceeded on to the lavish and lengthy banquet which had been prepared by the servants and the long tables were festooned with flowers and there was a wealth of food and drink for all the guests. Both inside and out there was much entertainment including music, singing, and performances and dancing.

During the afternoon Rose found herself watching Martha and Mickey, they were so deeply engrossed in their own conversation and each other that they did not notice anything that was going on around them. As she observed them, she thought that perhaps it was the very constraints and rules of marriage that made true love all the more special to those who found it. For lucky were the ones who found love within their class, and within the approval of their families. And yet, she thought, even those marriages that did not begin with love, often ended in a deep, endearing attachment that would be envied by many. Throwing a quick glance in Novem’s direction she thought, perhaps that was the kind her marriage was.

While enjoying a delicious, sweet dessert a belated well-wisher approached. He was a tall and haughty looking man

He bowed, “Your Majesty, milady. May I congratulate you both on this momentous day.” The man’s conceited demeanour was also conveyed through his tone and Rose felt as if the congratulation was anything but.

The man took Rose’s hand and bent over to kiss it while whispering, “It is such a pity you had to get a substitute for your blessing and that your father could not do it. But such is life, no?”

Novem tensed and Rose’s face paled but to her credit she maintained a smile, although a rather strained one, and bid the man thanks and good day.

Novem looked at her, seeing the hurt and despair in her eyes. Feeling something inside him, some strange emotion that was unrecognisable to him just then, unconsciously his hand went out to her. His expression became one of mixed emotions, strangely gentle, and his eyes softened and were filled with sorrow and compassion, telling her of his regret that this should give her pain.

Rose surprised and grateful for Novem’s reassuring touch turned to look at him. Never before had she seen such a tender expression on his proud features. It was then that Rose knew that while there may not be love between herself and Novem they had begun to form an attachment that someday may be just as strong.

“He is a decidedly odious man. Come, let us dance and forget him,” Novem said and he offered Rose his arm.

Rose and Novem entered the dance area and the musicians skilfully changed the music they had been playing and began a waltz. Rose did her best to forget what that man had said, to not let the sadness that her father was not here on her wedding rise. It took some time, but as other couple entered the dance floor Rose let herself be caught up in the music, the atmosphere and in the strength and security of Novem’s arms.

~~*~~

The festivities lasted long into the night. Thankfully there had been no repeat incidences and Rose ended up having quite an enjoyable night. Jack made her laugh heartily as he spun her eccentrically about the dance floor and she later shared a somewhat bittersweet dance with Mickey.

One of the highlights of the evening as when her mother had agreed to dance with Novem, although form the looks on their faces Jackie was once again telling Novem off; reminding him that while he maybe the King, she was Rose’s mother and if he hurt Rose she would come after him with the vengeance of the Goddess of Pain.

Tiredness tugged at everyone before at last the celebration wrapped up and the remaining courtiers bid the couple a hearty yet drunken goodnight.

Novem escorted Rose to her rooms, the walk was leisurely neither feeling the need to rush anywhere. They came to a stop just outside the door and paused to say goodnight.

Rose reached out with a hesitant hand and cupped Novem’s face. As she stood on her toes Novem bent his head and their lips met. The kiss was soft and gentle, the weariness of the day catching up on both of them.

When they broke apart Rose turned to enter her room before whispering to him with an alcohol fuelled smirk, “Goodnight, husband.”

Novem gave her an exaggerated bow and replied, “Goodnight, wife,” and he watched the door to her rooms close.

With heavy feet Rose made her way to her bedroom. It had been a long day and seeing the covers turned back on the bed and her nightdress draped over a chair, together with a fire burning in the fireplace, it all looked too inviting.

Raffalo helped her to undress, tugging at the innumerable hooks down the back of her dress and then unpinning her hair. Rose shook it out with both hands so that it tumbled down her back, and then gratefully climbed into bed. It was not too long before sleep claimed her.

~~*~~

As Novem returned to his own rooms he passed by a large window that overlooked one of the gardens. He noticed a young couple waltzing on the grass and paused to watch them, reminded of his earlier dances with Rose. He soon wished he had not stopped. He did not know the woman, but he knew the man. Decem.

All happiness from the day fled and Novem stormed back to his rooms. Once there he quickly poured a glass of liquor and downed it quickly before pouring himself another. He paced the length of is rooms in agitation. This was his wedding night; it was meant to be one of the happiest days of his life and yet now he felt nothing but tension.

No matter how much he wanted to drink himself into oblivion, there was not enough liquor in the kingdom to douse the fury that was burning inside him like an inferno. Gods he was only a man and he wanted Rose in all ways; and yet knowing that there was an insurmountable barrier between them was driving him mad.

Damn her and that bloody arrangement! No, no. Not her. Damn Decem. Damn him for filling her head with nonsense, for not letting her go. Damn Decem! May the Goddess of Pain curse him!

***


	19. Journey to the Seaside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem  
> One = Unum  
> Tempus = Time

Rose sat in a chair by one of the open windows, a light late spring breeze drifting in, reading while Novem sat behind his desk writing. It seemed like more and more of their time alone together was spent like this, in silence, one reading the other writing. Rose found that she did not mind the silence half as much as she would have thought. Compared the constant show and noise of court the silence was a breath of fresh air.

Rose had been reading for some time before a dull ache had begun to develop in her lower back from sitting for so long. She set her book down and stood to stretch out her back. Once standing she decided she would give her legs a stretch as well and she took a turn about the room before wandering into the next.

The walls of this long room were lined with many large paintings. Some were portraits, like the one of King Unum’s wife or the young Princess Sarah, many others were landscapes from around the kingdom but one, which she stopped to survey, depicted a great three masted ship caught in the great swell of a mighty storm.

She wondered what it would be like to be on a ship caught in a storm of that magnitude, the heavying of the ship, the giant waves crashing into the vessel, the rain pouring down reducing visibility to virtually nothing. Though it was only a painting that did not stop the trickle of fear running through her as she imagined what it would it feel like.

Rose was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not notice a figure move into the room behind her. When the figure spoke, she gave quite a jump in fright and whirled around to find Novem a few feet from her.

"Have you ever been on a ship?" he asked, watching her curiously.

"No. I have not even been to the sea," she confessed.

Novem considered her in silence for some minutes during which Rose returned to looking at the painting.

When he eventually spoke, it was to say something that Rose had not been expecting.

"Then we shall go."

"Go?"

"Yes, in a few weeks as part of the honeymoon. We will take a trip to Dårlig Ulv-Stranden, to the sea."

"Really?" Rose asked her face lighting up at the thought of actually going to the seaside.

Novem nodded his confirmation. "It will only be for a few days, no more than four, possibly five. I cannot be away from the castle for much longer than that."

"Oh, thank you!"

Rose rushed forward in delight and threw her arms around him in a spontaneous hug. Novem stood uncomfortably still. Rose realised what she was doing and quickly let go. She gave an awkward cough and repeated her thanks in a more mature fashion.

He gave her a slight bow in return and left the room.

Once he was out of the room Rose threw her arms in the air and spun around in delight. Dårlig Ulv-Stranden was Gallifrey’s biggest and oldest port city, most of the kingdoms water imports and exports went through there. Rose had never been there or indeed to the ocean, she had of course heard stories and seen paints of it but had never seen it with her own two eyes.

She did not know what to make of this impromptu decision to travel to the port city. She supposed it was Novem’s way of trying to offer her a more normal honeymoon, although he went about it in his own unique manner.

~~*~~

The day of their departure arrived and when Raffalo woke Rose, it was still dark outside. It would take them two full days of travelling to reach Dårlig Ulv-Stranden and the sooner they got going the sooner they would arrive.

The excitement of the imminent trip had not yet awoken in Rose. She was not a morning person and having to drag herself out of bed before dawn was not conducive to excitement. Still, as the time passed, and she had breakfast and got ready for the journey the first tingling of anticipation started and by the time she was making her way down to the carriage she was brimming with excitement.

Pulling her coat more tightly around herself against the predawn chill, Rose took in the scene as she entered the dark courtyard lit by torches. It was a hive of quiet activity. She spotted Jack deep in conversation with one of his sergeants organising the squad of twenty soldiers that would be the advanced guard to the royal party, and Ianto and Gwen were arranging the section of ten soldiers that would travel with the party. Royal palace guards and more soldiers moved about the courtyard, some on horses, others on foot and servants dashed about the place weaving in and out of all the chaos loading the carriages and wagons.

“Goodness,” Rose breathed as the sight before her. “We are only going for a few days.”

Raffalo chuckled, “Welcome to travelling as royalty. This is small compared to an official party.”

Rose’s eyebrows rose in wonder and as she looked back at the activity a small knot of doubt developed in the pit of her stomach, dampening her excitement. “There is so much I do not know. How will I make a good Queen if I do not even know how the monarchy travels?”

Raffalo squeezed her arm reassuringly, “You have plenty of time to learn all the arbitrary facts of royalty over the next few months, don’t worry. Besides, his Majesty will make sure you know all that you need to so there’s no need to fear.

“Come on, best get you settled into the carriage. You’ll be travelling with his Majesty in this one,” Raffalo indicated a large, bedecked carriage with the Royal coat of arms painted on its doors, “Me and the other servants will be travelling behind ye in that carriage,” the second carriage was smaller and very plain in comparison to the first.

Rose was not waiting long before Novem arrived. He immediately went to check the progress with Jack and then with Ianto and Gwen. He appeared satisfied with what was happening and made his way over to Rose.

“It will not be too much longer. The advanced guard will be leaving any minute with the wagons and once the servants are done loading the baggage onto their carriage we will head off.”

The sky had started to lighten as they waited, developing a soft pale blue along the eastern horizon.

“We are good to go,” Jack called from his horse.

Novem nodded and the party set off.

There was not much talk for the first couple of hours of the journey and Rose contented herself by gazing out the window watching the countryside slowly wake with the brightening sky as they passed by.

It was after the first stop to stretch their legs that Rose eventually broke the silence. Looking at Novem sitting across from her curiosity stirred inside Rose. She did not want to pry into information the King did not want to offer, but she would like to get him to open up and tell her something about himself.

“Has it been long since you were last in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden? Jack mentioned that you use to go there are children,” she asked when she at last found her courage.

“It has been nearly two years since I was last there on official business. Ideally, I would visit annually but the skirmishes in the south have prevented that. It has been years since I was there for anything other than business.” Novem paused before asking, “What else did Jack say?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jack never just mentions something, there is always something more.”

“Well, he might have alluded to some of your antics as young boys,” Rose said coyly.

Novem gave a small grunt of amusement, “That is what I thought.”

There was a small pause of silence before Rose piped up, “He did not say much; just that the two of you got up to mischief together. Could you ... would you tell me about it?” Novem appeared to be in a talkative mood and Rose hoped that he might open up to her, even just a little bit.

“You would find out from Jack at some point anyway. The man takes immense pride in the amount of trouble we got ourselves into and will regale anyone who will listen with stories of our misspent youth,” he said dryly.

“We used to travel to Dårlig Ulv-Stranden and stay at Torchwood Palace every summer for two weeks, it was one of the few times in the year that my parents would both take time off. Jack’s father was Captain of the Guard and Jack was my childhood companion and so they travelled with us. Now young boys are often, if not always, attracting some sort trouble but if those boys happen to be the Crown Prince and the son of the Captain of the Guard then you get two trouble making boys with inflated self-assured hubris.”

Rose sat riveted, she had hoped for a little information and she was getting a fountain. Once he relaxed and started talking Novem’s whole demeanour changed becoming more youthful and animated.

“We were both as bad as each other, always egging the other on to do something more reckless, more daring, and that got worse when we were at Torchwood probably because we were away from the court atmosphere. We were forever stealing food, desserts mainly, from the kitchens much to the cook’s annoyance. What was worse for poor old Cook was that despite knowing it was us, who else would it have been, no one could ever catch us in the act of stealing so we could never actually be punished for it.”

“How did you manage it?”

“The kitchens at Torchwood Palace are much smaller and more cramped then at Tardis and we managed to work out a path through the kitchens, around pillars, under takes, behind crates, that would keep us obscured from view. Then for the few seconds everyone was concentrating on their tasks one of us would dash out, snatch the piece of food, and be back behind cover before anyone noticed something was missing.”

Novem continued to tell her more stories, how once when a renowned artist came to the palace to paint portraits they had ‘borrowed’ some of his paints and when they came upon a sleeping guard had painted all over his face, they had frequently tied buckets of water over doors in such a way that when the door was opened the bucket would tip over and pour its contents on the poor unsuspecting individual who had walked through the doorway, one of whom happened to be Jack’s father.

Novem laughed. “He did not know whether to give us such a hiding that we would not be able to sit for a week or to congratulate us on our ingenuity. He settled for somewhere in the middle and we did not sit for the rest of the day.”

It was at that point that Rose’s stomach gave a rather load grumble. “Excuse me,” she said sheepishly glancing down.

Novem smiled. “Not to worry. It should not be more than half an hour before we will be stopping for something to eat.”

Much to Rose’s chagrin, and to Novem’s amusement, her stomach persisted in grumbling for the next half an hour and Rose was very glad when they did at last stop.

The day had turned out quite warm with only a few patches of clouds dotted across the sky and lunch was set up in the shade of some large trees. A gentle summer breeze playing through the leaves.

Over lunch Novem explained that they would be spending their first night with Lord Moax of Ballhoon. Lord Moax had arrived in Gallifrey in Novem’s grandfather’s, King Septem’s day. At the time there had been tensions between Gallifrey and Ballhoon and Lord Moax had proven himself a valuable diplomat and had been awarded as the Ballhoon Ambassador to Gallifrey.

The rest of the day’s journey passed uneventfully, they stopped a further couple of times for the necessaries and the conversation between they trickled back and forth.

For some time, Rose was lost in thoughts of Novem’s childhood and imagining the all the scenarios he had described earlier. She looked up to find Novem studying her with interest. He had seen the smile flicker across her eyes and the expression had caught his full attention. For a moment they considered each other thoughtfully before Rose looked away. He was a very handsome man when he was relaxed.

The sun had begun to set turning the sky into a brilliant burnt orange colour before Novem finally said, “We are here.”

The carriage pulled up outside a large and handsome square fronted manor. Novem descended from the carriage first before helping Rose out.

Rose did not have much time to take in the new environment before the manor door opened and they were greeted by a man Rose presumed was Lord Moax. He was a very small, smaller than Raffalo, bald man with skin so pale and translucent that it had a blue tinge to it. He approached them smiling with the aid of a walking stick.

“Your Majesty, welcome, welcome. And this beauty must be your wife, no?”

The two men grasped hands and greeted each other like old friends. “Maox, it is good to see you after all this time. Yes, this is Rose.”

Moax bowed deep to her as she curtsied. “Charmed, my lovely Lady,” he said as he kissed her outstretched hand.

He ushered them inside and into the dining room where dinner was already laid out and waiting for them.

Rose felt quite out of her depth with the strange over familiarity, but she smiled and said as little as possible. Dinner passed uneventfully, only a few questions were directed at Rose, where was she from, how long had she been in the capital, how was she finding court.

“Bah, I do not miss it, court. All that backstabbing, gossiping. No, the odd visit every now and again is more than enough for me these days,” Moax stated emphatically.

“I should imagine so. You were in court for so long that you were practically part of the furniture,” Novem chuckled.

“Don’t I know it!” Maox returned with a bark of laughter before laying down his napkin and saying, “Shall we move into the parlour for drinks?”

Once in the parlour the two men continued to converse animatedly, leaving Rose to her own devices. She wandered over to the bookshelves and gazed in interest at the covers with elegantly written words in a foreign language, Ballhoonian she presumed, written across them.

Before long Rose felt the day’s travelling take its toll and she began to yawn.

One particularly large yawn was noticed by Moax. “Goodness Novem, while we sit here gasbagging your poor wife falls half asleep. And no wonder, look at the time! Both of you better be off to bed, you have an early start and another long day’s travelling ahead of you.”

Rose tried to apologise for yawning, but Lord Moax would have none of it and he so chivvied them off to bed.

Despite the tiredness that had plagued her in the parlour it took Rose longer than normal to fall asleep. The strange bed, unfamiliar room and the long day travelling in the carriage was now starting to take full effect all causing her degrees of discomfort until at last sheer exhaustion dragged her to sleep.

~~*~~

They rose early again the next morning, eating breakfast in the semi darkness. Lord Moax saw them off as they left on the second half of their journey.

Seeing Lord Moax seemed to have put Novem in a good mood and the conversation flowed easier between them then it ever had before. Something had changed in Novem and he began to open up to Rose and answer her questions more animatedly and in more depth. Rose felt elated at the thought that they were finally getting closer, that their conversions would not always be dogged with monosyllable answers and awkward silences, that they would enjoy each other’s company and, as a small piece of Rose’s mind whispered, that she might even be able to love him someday.

They stopped at an inn for lunch. The level of deference that they received was still quite foreign to Rose. As a Baroness she was used to a certain level of the respect afforded to those of rank but not the amount that was now given to her as the King’s wife and soon to be Queen. When she asked for something, even something as simple as another glass of wine, it was produced with such speed and ceremony that it was near laughable. Once or twice she had to stifle a laugh as an overly enthusiastic servant attempted to serve food and continuously bow at the same time, making it look like he had some sort of eccentric nervous condition of the back.

After lunch they set off again, hoping to reach the Torchwood Palace by late evening.

The smell was the first thing that Rose noticed, a fresh salty tang that made her want to breathe in deeply. She leaned out the window of the carriage to get a better look, not caring how childish and unladylike it seemed. And then she saw it, a blue-green expanse that stretched out to the horizon and beyond.

“Is that it? Is that the sea?” she called still leaning out the window.

She barely heard Novem’s muffled, “Yes,” from inside the carriage as she continued gazing in wonderment at the horizon.

Jack’s laughter caught her attention though. He rode up alongside the carriage clearly enjoying Rose’s delight.

“Yes, that is indeed the sea, albeit the tiniest fraction of it.”

“Oh, the size of it does not matter, it is the sea!”

Jack’s lips twisted into an impish grin as he said, “You say size does not matter now...”

Rose ignored Jack’s taunt and proceeded to lean even further out the window.

A pair of strong hands gripped her waist. Rose flushed and whipped her head around to see Noven, his brows furrowed in concern, glancing between Rose and the window. “If you lean any further you will likely fall out the window.”

“But I have got you to hold me,” she grinned, although she was unsure where the spark of mischievousness came from.

Novem snorted ruefully, “Just be careful.”

“I will!” Rose practically sang, her excitement outweighing the fact that Novem’s hands gripped tight around her waist.

Jack, who had been watching the whole exchange, descended into further fits of laughter at Rose’s childish joy and her clear unknowing of how she had Novem wrapped around her finger.

Rose eventually sat back down in the carriage, much to Novem’s relief, but she continued to gaze out the window and was more than a little disappointed when they lost sight of the sea.

Jack remained riding next to the carriage.

It was not long before the sea was once more in view as they at last crested a large hill and the city, port, and sea were spread out before them.

Dårlig Ulv-Stranden was situated in a protected bay, the two arms of the bay curled out and around forming a rough, uncomplete circle with a narrow, but deep, channel that allowed access in and out of the harbour. The city itself was nestled in the base of a wide valley, sloping out to the water’s edge.

Dårlig Ulv-Stranden was the city of bridges, much of the main city sat upon the myriad of small islands that made up the mouth of the Tempus River, whose source began in the mountains surrounding the capital. Each of these islands was connected by elegantly crafted bridges, some were so wide that two carriages could pass side by side with ease and had sloping ramps rather than steps, others were so narrow that inhabitants had to cross in single file.

They skirted the edge of the city, driving passed large estates and parks with tree lined streets that lined the upper valley. This was the residential area, well away from the busy hub of the main city, canals, and port. The smell of the sea grew stronger in the air the further they travelled.

Human habitation soon gave way to landscape and after some time the carriage began to slow. They came to a stop in a small lay-by with fields and trees to the right and small undulating hills with tall grey, green prickly grassy vegetation to the left. 

“Why are we stopping, we are not at the Palace yet?”

“We are making a slight detour first. You wanted to see the sea, did you not?” Novem said.

“Really?”

“Just over those,” he said pointing to the small hills.

“Eek!” Rose squeaked and jumped down from the carriage not waiting to be helped.

Rose waited impatiently for guards to give the okay and at last herself, Novem, Jack, Ianto and Gwen began climbing.

“What are all these little hills?” she asked Jack who walked just ahead of her.

“These are dunes, built up over the years as the sea deposits sand and held together by the marram grass.”

“Oh. How do you know so much about them?”

“Spent some time in the Royal Navy, didn’t I. The sea life was not for me though; I prefer my feet on Terre Firma.”

Rose tried to image Jack as the Captain of a ship but could not quite manage it. She shook her head, she preferred him on Terra Firma too.

They reached the apex of the dune hill and Rose surveyed the scene before her. The sun was glinting off the water, and a cool breeze coming up off the water brought the salty smell of the sea and the sound of the crashing waves with it. Rose stood mesmerised by the scene and in particular the waves. How the swell would start out small and then quickly get bigger before curling and then crashing up the shore.

“I have seen it before in painting but seeing it in real life; it is so much more beautiful. It is so blue!”

Rose took a few steps down the hill before she was overcome with the urge to start running. With a shriek of delight she took off, the wind whipping back strands of stray hair. Her feet pounded down the hill, sinking slightly every now and again in patches of loose sand. She only began to slow when she reached the bottom of the hill. She eventually came to a stop midway between the dunes and the water, breathing deeply.

Rose found herself becoming increasingly daring as she decided to take off her shoes and stockings in order to dip her feet in the edge of the water. She lifted up the ends of her dress to avoid getting them wet and waited with bated breath for the next wave. The wave arrived and surged its way up the shore moving up and around Rose’s feet and ankles. A giggle of delight escaped from her this time as she felt the cool water rush over her.

Rose spent several minutes just standing letting the water wash over her feet.

Eventually Novem called to her, “Time to go, Rose,” and it was with a sigh that she stepped out of the waters reach.

The thought of spending the next few days at the beach had Rose brimming with happiness and so full of delight she practically bounced back to the carriage. Her high spirits were infectious. Novem looked quite amused by her delight and his eyes danced with silent laughter, Jack was grinning like a child on his birthday and Gwen and Ianto openly smiled and laughed. All in all, it was a very merry party that arrived at the Torchwood Palace.

Huge wrought-iron gates bearing the royal insignia opened at their approach. At the end of a long sweeping drive lined with giant trees and undulating park land disappearing into the distance, the grand palace came into view.

When the coaches stopped at the front Rose stepped down and stood looking at the magnificent building with its sturdy stone, elegant carvings and mullion windows. There was a fresh breeze in her face, warm and soaked with the fragrance of the sea.

She was unaware that Novem had come to stand beside her until he spoke, his voice soft and warm to her ears. "Beautiful is it not? I have loved this place since I was a child."

"It is truly very beautiful," Rose breathed.

He offered her his arm and led her inside.

Rose looked about her in awe. Doing a quick sweep of the cavernous hall, which was filled with warmth and sunlight, she glanced through open doors, seeing the luxury of the rooms beyond. The Palace was, although significantly smaller than Tardis Palace, a very large and grand building set in some hundred acres of garden and park land.

The good mood carried through to dinner which was a pleasant affair. Rose and Novem chatted amicably throughout the meal, discussing Rose’s first impressions of the sea and the summer palace. Their conversations in the carriage on the journey to Dårlig Ulv-Stranden had broken some of the walls between them. At one-point Rose began to tease Novem about his northern accent and the way he pronounced certain words. Novem’s response was in mock offence, “It is how Northerners say it. Plenty of kingdoms have a north."

Tiredness eventually drove both of them to make their way to bed with Novem offering his arm to Rose and leading her up to her rooms.

"My rooms are just across the landing. There is also a connecting door, if you should need anything."

"Okay. Today was wonderful, thank you for bringing me here."

"It was my pleasure. Goodnight Rose." He leant down and kissed her gently letting his lips linger on hers.

Rose's eyes fluttered closed as a delightful warmth spread slowly down her body. She really did enjoy his kisses, few and fleeting as they were.

As they broke apart she whispered, "Goodnight, Novem."

He gave her a small bow before turning and walking back down the hallway.

Rose carefully opened her door and when she closed it behind her she leaned back against it, her mouth breaking into a smile as the warmth of the kiss slowly dimmed.

"Good dinner?" Raffalo asked mischievously.

Rose gave a small laugh, "Yes", and pushing herself off the door she affirmed, “Yes, it was a very good dinner. I think I could be quite happy."

"Hmm and I suppose being Queen has nothing to do with being happy," Raffalo teased as she loosened Rose's corset.

"That might play a small part alright," Rose chuckled.

"Only a small part?"

"Power and control are not the only things that bring happiness."

"But they certainly help. I suppose it also helps if one's husband is a good kisser?"

Fixing her night dress Rose laughed again. "That does certainly help."

"Well that settles it then," Raffalo grinned and she began to put out the candles.

Raffalo bade Rose goodnight and left while Rose settled herself into bed.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

***


	20. The Seaside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Warnings: Some swearing, Some violence at the end of the chapter (not overly graphic)  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

Rose woke the following morning to clear blue summer skies and a gentle breeze. A good omen if there ever was one.

She washed and dressed in an elegant jade green dress with Raffalo’s help and hummed quietly on her way down to breakfast.

This good humour faltered slightly over breakfast, Novem's internal wall seemed to have gone back up again overnight but Rose was determined not to let her husband’s sullen mood and tense demeaner dampen her sprits.

Rose settled in one of the morning parlour rooms after breakfast, Novem following not long after. He made a short bow when he entered and took up a station by one of the drawing room windows, looking as stiff and uncomfortable as it was possible for a man to be.

As the silence continued Rose picked up her book and began reading, not knowing what else to do.

She was debating whether or not to ask him if everything alright, but she was saved from this internal dilemma by the arrival of Jack.

Jack appeared somewhat tense when he entered, and he glanced at Novem silently communicating something. Given this look Rose thought that perhaps Novem’s bad mood was to do with some official kingdom business and not with her. She truly hoped that this was the case.

Jack tried to pretend that nothing was amiss when he spoke to Rose. “So Rose, how would you like a picnic at the beach?”

“That would be lovely, Jack.” Rose smiled trying to push the doubts to the back of her mind.

“Excellent! Well you go get yourself ready, we will be riding to the beach and the horses and food will be ready out the front when you are down.”

Rose was back downstairs within twenty minutes and they were soon ready to set off. Novem and Jack stayed close together talking urgently in hushed voices.

Gwen rode next to Rose. “Never mind those two,” she said, seeing Rose glance anxiously at the two men. “Some poor servant has probably just mislaid a document or something, that is all.”

Rose did not believe Gwen, but she was grateful for Gwen’s attempt to reassure her all the same.

It took them half an hour to reach the beach. They dismounted and left the horses with two servants in the shade of the dunes before beginning the short climb to the beach. The beach was about half a mile long, bordered at either end by sea and weather worn rocks and at the back by dunes.

The sight of the beach and the sea lifted Rose’s spirits.

Whatever Novem and Jack had talked about on the ride over had clearly put both of them in a better mood, particularly Novem. His carriage was now easy, and the stiffness which he had displayed in the morning parlour room had relaxed into the long strides of a man most comfortable out of doors. Seen outside the confines of the pompous and regulated court, there was an easiness to his stride that many a gentleman might have envied.

Blankets were laid out on the sand, a marquee erected over them and baskets of food laid out on them. It appeared that the servants had packed a small feast into the baskets which were overflowing with food.

Rose decided to go down to the water before eating. The wind gently blowing her hair and the water lapping at her feet relaxed her and she could feel the morning’s tension slowly drain away. In due course she made her way back to the blankets to find the party relaxed and enjoying the sun.

Jack’s jacket was off, and the top of his shirt was undone, but he gave no notice of the impropriety of either as he stretched out in the warm sand. Rose noticed she was not the only one taking note of the elegantly laying Captain. Ianto was also watching Jack, with an arresting gaze and a faint blush on his cheeks.

Novem too looked quite relaxed; he sat on one of the blankets, his long legs stretched out in front of him leaning back against one of the baskets.

As Rose approached, he indicated the space next to him and Rose settled down barely a foot from him.

It took Rose a few minutes to relax next to the King but as earlier the gentle breeze and the sound of the waves soon swept away the tension.

It was Jack who broke the silence as he began to regale Rose with stories of his life on the high seas.

“This is where I met Gwen.”

“Really?” Rose tuned eagerly to Gwen for confirmation; she nodded grinning and took over the story telling from Jack.

“My family moved out here when I was in my late teens. I had wanted to be a guard since I was a child, however, the local guard were not too happy about a young woman trying to be one of them. So even though I was capable and able I was never officially part of the guard. They let me hang around more for their own amusement than anything else.”

Rose scowled at the treatment and bullying that Gwen had received.

Gwen shrugged and smiled, “I got my own back though. There had been a group of pirates marauding up and down the coast for some weeks and the local guard had no success in capturing them. So, they called in the royal navy for assistance and it just so happened that the ship which responded was captained by our very own Jack here. Ianto, Owen, Toshiko and Suzie were also aboard.”

Rose gave a puzzled look, not familiar with all the names.

“Those five were quite the crime solving team and had a good reputation. Owen and Toshiko are back at the palace now.”

“And Suzie?”

“Suzie did not make it.”

“Oh, I sorry.”

“It is alright,” Gwen reassured her, “These things happen.”

Jack took over the story telling. “So unbeknownst to anyone Gwen here had been regularly sailing up and down the coast, building up a routine and being noticed by the pirates as a potential target. Gwen came to us with a plan and, as a man who never passes up the opportunity for a good con, I readily agreed. We continued the ruse for another two weeks before they took the bait. They thought they were attacking a minimally guarded boat but in fact it was chock full of soldiers.”

“The skirmish did not take too long but it was the looks of surprise, the panic, on their faces. You should have seen it, priceless,” Gwen added with pride.

“I saw Gwen’s potential and poached her from the local guard. She has been part of the team ever since,” Jack finished.

The stories continued as food was served; only stopping when both Jack and Gwen had taken a bite to eat at the same time.

After the food Rose and Novem went for a walk; down to the end of the beach, up across the dunes, over some of the rocks and back across the beach. It was a pleasant walk; they exchanged a few words but mainly they took in the beautiful surroundings and enjoyed each other company. When they reached the end of the rocks there was a small three-foot jump down onto the sand. Novem hopped down with ease and turned to face Rose, a glint in his eyes.

“Jump,” he called and held out his arms.

Rose looked at his with some trepidation before gathering her courage and leaping into the air. Novem caught her with ease, spinning her around once before setting her gently down on the sand.

Rose’s heart was all of a flutter as they made their way back to the blankets. She strove to pretend that the trembling in her hands and the shortness of her breath was from the walk and the exertion of the jump, although nothing could explain away the flush on her cheeks or her pounding heart that the feeling of being in Novem’s arms had brought on.

After another short meal the servants began to pack up and the party got ready to make its way back to the palace. Once back Rose retired to her rooms and Novem to his study for a couple of hours before making their way to dinner.

A servant approached them as soon as they had finished their meal and handed Novem a letter. Seeing that it was an official letter Novem headed to the study to read the letter and Rose proceeded to wander back upstairs found a place to curl up and read.

~~*~~

Having finally finished writing his response back to the local Lords and their continued grumblings of discontent, Novem went in search of Rose. He could not find her in the library, dining hall nor in her rooms. He eventually found her in an upstairs parlour.

The unfamiliar scene in the dimly lit, warm room made him stop short and catch his breath. Rose was curled up on a seat, she had kicked off her shoes and her hair was unbound and rested on her shoulders.

It was a scene of homeliness and contentment and something deep and profound stirred within him.

Sensing Novem's presence Rose looked up. With his shoulder propped against the door he was a towering masculine presence in the room. He had shed his neckcloth but otherwise was dressed in the same clothes he had worn earlier that day. He was watching her intently.

"Novem?" she questioned; her voice soft.

"I came to say goodnight."

"Is it that late?" Rose looked about herself trying to find some gage of time.

"Hmm, it is. Passed midnight."

"Goodness, I got so absorbed by the book I had not realised the time. I had best head to bed myself."

"Let me," Novem said holding out his arm as Rose got up. 

Like the night before he led Rose to her door and kissed her goodnight. This kiss though was sweeter than the ones before; it conveyed the growing admiration between them and the possibility of something much more. 

~~*~~

The next day was bright and sunny like the previous one and Rose descended to the dining hall for breakfast feeling quite content. Unfortunately, this contentment was not to last.

Novem was not at breakfast when Rose arrived and still had not appeared by the time Rose had finished. She went in search of him but to no avail. She settled herself in the morning parlour room and it was only then that a servant came to inform her of what was happening.

The servant bowed before speaking. “His Majesty wished for me to pass on his deepest regrets and tell you that he has unfortunately been called away on kingdom business with some of the local Lords and will be unable to accompany you to the beach today. He has asked that you remain on the estate grounds for the remainder of the day and you will resume your trip again tomorrow.”

“I see. Thank you for letting me know. You may go.”

The servant bowed again and left.

Once her own disappointment and frustration had abated Rose realised that this must have been what was troubling Novem the previous day. Residing herself to a day on the estate she went in search of Raffalo and found her in the kitchens.

“Shall we explore the grounds?”

“Yes of course. We can take a picnic and make a day of it.”

It did not take long for Raffalo to organise things and shortly a small group of three servants and two guards were travelling with the two women across the estate. The Torchwood Estate was quite beautiful, with elegant, manicured gardens surrounding the summer palace which gave way to park land of meadows and woods.

At midday they stopped for lunch. Rose did her best to encourage the servants and guards to relax and enjoy the day. On the whole it worked, however, there were still too many “Milady’s” and bowing for the group to truly relax.

They encountered one of the patrol groups when they were resting by the stream that ran through the estate.

Rose’s two guards conversed with the patrol group for some minutes and returned with the reassuring news that all was well along the estate’s boundary.

It was early evening when the group returned to the palace and to Rose’s disappointment Novem had not returned. She had dinner by herself and he had still not arrived by the time she went to bed.

~~*~~

The following day Novem was again not at breakfast and Rose did not need the servants to tell her that he would be out for the entire day again.

Not in the mood to trek around the estate again and with a growing sense of frustration at watching a second day of the holiday squandered Rose slouched to the morning parlour room to read with Raffalo in tow.

After two painfully dull hours crawled by Rose threw her book aside in aggravation and boredom. After some minutes deliberating, she finally said, "Come on, let us go shopping."

Raffalo was rather alarmed by this statement and attempted to dissuade her mistress. "But, but his majesty said we were to stay on the estate."

"I know but I am bored! He would be too if he were stuck here for two days with nothing to do." Rose threw her arms in the air in exasperation. "It will be fine. We will go out for a couple of hours and be back before her even knows we were gone."

“I don't know," Raffalo said gnawing her bottom lip in thought and worry.

"It will just be to stretch our legs and get a change of scenery."

Raffalo still looked unconvinced.

"What the King does not know will not hurt him. He will not even know we were gone."

Raffalo reluctantly nodded.

"Fantastic! I will go call a carriage and you get our coats and gloves." Rose bounded out of the room in uncontained happiness.

After some tough negotiation with the carriage driver and guards on duty Rose eventually convinced them to agree to let her and Raffalo go into town for a few hours.

It took the entire carriage ride before Raffalo had begun to relax and she was somewhat cheerier by the time they reach the shopping district.

Dårlig Ulv-Stranden had one main upmarket shopping street, a wide meandering tree lined boulevard, with several smaller shopping streets off it. This district was perched closer to the upper-class residential area to the right of the valley with its own exclusive port and marina and was well away from the hustle and bustle of the main port with its constant flow of sea traffic and moving cargo.

The two women descended from the carriage and took in the variety if assorted shops that lined the street, clothing stores, book shops, jewellers, furniture shops. Their driver left them to go park the carriage in the assigned carriage bay area and wait out the next few hours until they were ready to leave.

Over a bridge and halfway up the first side street Rose stopped to study the window display of a rather fashionable tailor.

“Rose?” a voice called from nearby.

Rose froze. She knew that voice. A voice she had thought she would never hear again. It was him.

“Decem,” she breathed as she turned to see who had called her name.

There he stood not six feet from her, his hair a perusing mess as always, his eyes dancing with delight and a roguish grin playing across his lips. Rose’s knees went weak at the sight of him, her stomach did a funny summersault, and she had the over whelming urge to giggle.

“Decem,” she said again, this time louder and clearer.

Decem moved to her, taking both her hands in his and kissing them. “I thought it was you alright. I would know you anywhere, my beautiful Rose. What are you doing here?”

“We are out to do a bit of shopping,” Rose said indicating herself and Raffalo.

“Ah shopping, from what I hear that is tiring and hungry work.”

Rose laughed. “It can certainly be both of those things.”

“Then let the two of us go for lunch, or perhaps and early dinner given the time. My treat.”

“That would be perfect, Decem.”

Raffalo’s cough reminded Rose of where she was and that she had other company besides Decem.

“Oh, Raffalo. Em ... You can go home, there is no need for both of us to stay.”

“But my Lady-”

“Do not worry I will keep Rose safe. I will have her back well before sunset.” Decem’s tone, while pleasant, brooked no argument and its intent was to remind Raffalo of her place, she was a servant and was not to speak back to her Lady.

“I know a lovely little restaurant just a couple of streets over. Shall we get going?” he continued to Rose, now completely ignoring Raffalo.

Raffalo did not like the idea of leaving Rose one iota, but she had been given her orders and there was not much she could do but hope that Decem proved to be a man of his word. She left them as the couple made their way up the street and out of sight.

The restaurant that Decem led Rose to was a small but very fashionable one. It was over a small, elegant bridge, with a charming petite garden to the front, and a dark wooden frontage gave the impression of sophistication.

“A private dining room if you have one?” Decem asked the host.

“Certainly, my Lord. We have a lovely parlour room that overlooks the bay. If you would follow me, it is upstairs.”

They followed the host up a winding stair and into a rather large and handsome room. A large fireplace was bordered by two couches to their left and at the other end of the room was a sizable dining table next to a pair of large windows and a door that led onto a balcony.

“This is perfect,” Rose said.

“I’m glad it’s to your taste, my Lady. I’ll send a maid up to you in a little while once you’re settled to take your orders.”

Decem nodded to the host as he left.

Rose immediately went to the balcony to look out at the sea, it was a view she just could not get used to.

Decem poured himself a drink from the side table and followed her out.

“It is a beautiful view, is it not?” she breathed.

“It is, although present company makes all the more stunning.”

Rose blushed profusely, her heart skipping a beat at the compliment.

Watching the small boats and large ships move about the bay they chatted amicably, about the town, the sea and what each of them thought, their impressions of place and scenery. There were only two brief pauses in the conversation, the first when their orders were taken and the second when the food was brought in and they moved inside to eat.

At the end of the meal they eventually lapsed into silence and after some time Decem stood without a word, facing away from Rose. “So, what is married life like?” he asked abruptly.

“I do not want to talk about it or about Novem,” Rose said, an uneasy, queasy feeling bubbling up in her stomach at the sudden thought of Novem.

“You do not want to talk about the man you married?” came the monotone reply, “How strange.”

Rose stared at Decem’s back, confused as to the sudden change in his tone and the tense atmosphere in the room.

“What brought on this line of questioning?” she asked putting down her napkin and standing as well.

“Well I think as the jilted party I have a right to enquire, don’t you?” he said in a condescending tone finally turning to face her.

“Jilted party? What are you talking about?” Rose questioned. Though she was utterly bewildered by the conversation she walked up to him trying to somehow understand him.

His eyes flashed, “You turned tail and ran from me, scurried straight into his arms and married him!”

“Do not say that, I could never run from you,” Rose whispered pleadingly wrapping her arms around him. “But he is the King, I could not refuse him.”

“Then what do you call it if it was not running?” he said with a slightly bitter edge to his tone but still embracing her.

“I crawled. I could do nothing more than that.”

“When you come back to me-,” he began, and she pulled back out of his arms.

“I won’t. I married him and I am going to be Queen. I cannot change that.” She turned from him and made to leave the room.

“If, then. If you come back to me,” he said, conceding to the situation, “Will you run or will you crawl?”

She turned her head as she stepped through the door and said, “I will fly.”

She would fly back to him. How could she not? She was still his. Her thoughts and emotions overwhelmed her, and she ran. She ran down the stairs, out of the building and down the street, tears welling up in her eyes and spilling out down over her cheeks.

She did not know how far she had gone, the rays of the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground, when a hand grabbed her arm from behind.

“Rose, wait!” Decem said in a hoarse whisper. “Rose, please. I did not mean to upset you.”

“I know. It is just....” Rose trailed off not looking up at him.

“Look I will not bring it up again, okay,” Decem said as he embraced her. “It was wrong of me it put you on the spot like that. I will not do it again.”

Rose looked up at him, drying her eyes, “It is okay.”

“You can forgive me?”

“You are already forgiven.”

“My beautiful Rose,” he said smiling down at her. At that smile Rose found her heart melting for him.

“There you are brother,” a voice called and to Rose’s horror she saw Lord Saxon approaching them. “I have been all over town looking for you. You missed dinner.”

“My apologises, Harold. I got waylaid.”

“I see and such pretty company to be waylaid by,” Saxon sneered.

Rose scowled at him.

“I must see Rose home safe.”

“But the game starts in ten minutes, the boys were counting on you being there. You do not want to disappoint them, do you?”

“No, but...”

Saxon put his arm around his brother’s shoulders and led him a few feet away from Rose before continuing, “You missed dinner; you are not going to let me down again today?”

“No, I-”

“And surely you do not need to see the girl all the way home to the front gate?”

“No, just that she is safe.”

“Well then what is the problem, just show her to a carriage and we came be on our way. We will not miss the game if that is all you have to do.”

“But the carriages are a few streets over; it will take at least ten minutes to get there.”

Saxon sighed. “You are not telling me you have to escort the girl to the carriage as well. She is not a child, brother. She is perfectly capable of swishing those skirts of hers by herself; she does not need you to hold her hand like a toddler.”

“I know but I want her safe,” Decem said emphasising his personal interest.

“Well, well, well, my little brother wants to cuckold the King. I did not know you had it in you, little brother,” Saxon taunted.

“Saxon, will you keep your voice down!” Decem hissed. “It is not like that.”

“I am sure it is not,” his tone dripping with sarcasm. “The game is about to start any minute, what are you going to do?”

“Fine, I will go with you. Just give me a second.”

Decem walked over to Rose.

“Rose my dear, I need to go with Saxon, I already stood him up for dinner, I cannot do it again. Will you be alright to get to the carriage by yourself?”

“I do not know where to go. Will it be safe?”

“It is only a few streets over; just head that way and you cannot miss it. Of course, it will be safe, you will be fine.”

He kissed her hand and whispered, “I will see you soon, alright?” before turning and walking away.

Rose watched Decem's retreating back with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Decem would always put Saxon before her. Saxon would say 'jump' and Decem would ask 'how high?' She did not like or even trust Saxon; he had an unworthy malevolent streak, and she could not understand how Decem did not see it.

She sighed heavily, it was getting late, the sun had almost set and she had better start looking for a carriage before Novem sent a search party out for her.

As Rose glanced round the street, she happened to see two men leaning against the outside of a tavern. One was thin and scruffy, shuffling his feet idly. The other was taller, a bigger and beefier man. He had a nasty grin playing across his lips and he was staring directly at Rose. Rose held eye contact with the man for a few seconds before breaking it. She felt frightened. Unnerved. No good or decent sort of man would have held eye contact with a Lady like that, nor leer at her in such a horrid manner.

She turned and started walking up the street, away from the two men. She wanted to break into a run and get away from them as quickly as possible, but she felt sure that if she did they would certainly give chase, like a hungry pair of wolves after a lone and frightened deer, so she restrained her pace to a brisk walk. Decem had said that the carriages would be a few streets over. She would head there directly, taking the shortest route she could find and hopefully those two men would not follow.

As she walked she grew steadily more nervous. Something was not right. A prickly, uncomfortable heat descended on her, her pulse quickened and the small hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. She felt watched. They were following her.

Rose crossed the street and as she did she glanced up and down the deserted street on the pretence of checking to make sure there were no carriages or carts passing. Even though at this late hour there were very few, if any, vehicles on the road and any that were around would easily be heard in the quite of the night. They were there, both men not fifty yards from her.

Oh, may the Kings and Queen of old save me, she cried to herself as she kept walking. Mickey had always warned her that her curiosity, her habit of wandering off, would get her into trouble and it looked like he had been right. Those two men were after her, they were going to attack and rob her unless she could make it to a more populated area and fast.

She spotted the smaller man across the street from her. But where was the other one? She turned her head sharply to look behind her. The bigger man was there, twenty feet from her. Rose dropped all pretence of calmness and broke into a run. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of dress and hiked the skirt up so she could run faster.

She could hear the bigger man behind her giving chase. The smaller man had levelled with her and was now running diagonally across the road. He was trying to cut her off!

Rose spotted a street to her right up ahead. This might be her only chance to get off this street and away from them. Rose, heart pounding, threw herself around the corner, up the steps of the small bridge. She had not taken more than a few steps down the other side of the bridge when she realized that it was a dead end.

"Shit!" she cried, skidding to a halt.

"Well now, what do we have here?" 

Rose whipped around. The two men stood at the alley mouth, both panting from the run but with identical sickening grins on their faces. They had her cornered with no escape and they knew it. 

"A frisky little rabbit, aren't you?" 

It was the bigger man that had spoken. He had a raspy, guttural voice that made Rose's skin crawl. 

"I like it when they have a bit of fight in 'em, makes it all the more fun to break 'em."

“If you want money or jewellery, I do not have much on me. You can take it all,” Rose said as she took a small step back.

Both men match her step back with a step forward.

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that pet,” the smaller man said. He had a weak weedy voice.

Another step back.

“Loss of jewellery is the least of your problems at the moment.”

Another step.

“We’re going to have fun tonight; I can promise you that.”

One more step.

Rose found herself pressed up against the cold stone wall. She had reached the end of the alley, with no way out except through the two leering men advancing on her. Her whole body felt weak, but she refused to cower here and let them violate her without a fight. If they were going to try and hurt her, she was going to make sure she hurt them as much as she physically capable of.

She knew it was pointless, but she tried it nonetheless and made a break for it, to try and dash past them. She ran to her right, trying to scurry around the two men. The bigger man, Big Man she decided to call him, threw his arm out and caught her around the waist, gripping handfuls of her dress.

A half scream, half growl escaped from Rose as she was dragged from away from the small gap of freedom and safety that lay at the alley mouth. Rose scrabbled to break Big Man’s hold on her. The stench of him filled her nostrils, choking her as effectively as a strangle hold around her neck. She lashed out, first with her nails scratching at his face, and second with her legs kicking out. She managed to scrawl his face and she made one successful kick that hit his knee.

Big Man gave a shout as blood welled up in the cuts on his face and his knee gave out from under him from Rose’s kick. He all but threw Rose from him back down the alley as he went down. Small Man made a move to go after Rose but stopped at Big Man’s command.

“No. She is mine.”

He looked up at Rose and her blood turned cold. That look promised so much pain and horror; he would make her scream until she lost her voice. He would make her beg for death and have her wishing she were never born.

A drop of blood made its way down his cheek which he wiped it away with his thumb. He starred at the blood on his thumb before putting it in his mouth and sucking the blood off. Rose recoiled in fear and disgust as he grinned and advanced towards her.

Rose wanted to run, wanted to fight but she could not. Fear gripped her like she had never known before. It paralyzed her. She could not move. All she could do was look on as Big Man advanced towards her promising agony and torture. A tiny voice in her mind screamed at her to run, to move, to just do something, anything, other than quivering unmoving at her impending fate.

Big Man stood before her.

“Scream for me, little rabbit,” he whispered cruelly.

Rose’s silence was the only form of resistance she was capable of.

He back handed her. His fist struck face with such force that it caused not only her head to jerk to the side but her whole body followed. The momentum caused her to stumble, and she crashed into the alley wall, smacking her head off the stone as she did so. Pain blossomed at her right temple and her vision swam as she felt the trickle of blood down her cheek. Her knees buckled and she tried desperately to steady herself against the wall. A whimper escaped her as her legs gave way and she slid to the ground. 

Big Man grinned more broadly as he stood over her.

“Scream for me.”

She looked up at him, eyes full of fear as a sob bubbled up her throat and tears rolled down her cheeks, knowing what was about to happen. He was going to attack her, violate her. Kill her.

Big Man screamed.

Rose froze at his sudden scream, confused and unsure about what had happened. A dark figure had grabbed her would be assailant’s arm and twisted it behind his back and kicked his legs out from under him. Through teary and blurred vision Rose looked up at her saviour with trepidation. She knew that silhouette, the line of the jaw, the shape of the ears.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you've made a big mistake. I'll tear you limb from limb when I find out you are!" Big Man seethed.

"Some posh blokes judging by their clothes," Small Man spat out.

"Quiet You!"

Jack! That was Jack's voice Rose thought. He must have Small Man incapacitated.

"Oh, some sort of Lords are ye? You'll regret this! We'll have you both begging for mercy when we're through with ye!"

When Novem finally spoke, it was in a soft and deadly voice, "It is you who will be doing the regretting."

"Oh ya?"

"You really have no idea of what you have gotten yourself into."

"Why? Who are you?"

Novem leant over him and in a deadly soft voice said, "Me? I am the King."

Big Man's scoff at this statement quickly turned into a scream as Novem twisted his arm so violently that it broke with a sickening crack.

He looked at Rose, his eyes filled with a wild icy gleam.

"Close your eyes, Rose."

Rose did as she was told without a second thought.

"Jack?"

"Majesty."

Rose buried her face in her knees and covered her ears with her hands as more screams and shouts began.

She did not know how long she stayed like that before there was a hand at her shoulder. She gave a start as the sudden and unexpected touch and looked up with terrified eyes. Novem was kneeling beside her.

"It is okay. It is over. Time to go."

Rose made an attempt to get up, but her arms and legs shook so much that she could only manage to raise herself an inch or two from the ground before falling back down. Novem took her hands in his and all but lifted her to her feet.

There was no sign of Jack or the two men in the alley.

Novem wrapped his right arm around her waist and guided her out of the alley and down the street to a carriage that would take them back to the estate.

Rose clung to Novem the whole journey back to the estate.

***


	21. The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Warnings: Some swearing, Some violence (more graphic than the last chapter)  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

Novem was agitated.

He was meant to be spending this trip with his wife as part of their honeymoon period; instead, he had spent the last two days gallivanting about the countryside trying to fix the local Lords’ inane problems and deal with their unhappy grumblings. He could have handled one day, but two! These Lords were just too bloody lazy to actually make the trip to the capital and had decided to take advantage of his presence in town and complain the entire time too.

He had promised Rose four days by the sea and all she had gotten so far was one day at the sea and two days stuck on the estate. Truth be told, he was worried about Rose. She was not the type of woman to sit idly about the palace at the best of times, never mind the fact that they were in a new city and by the sea. He had been, if not happy then content, to tell her to stay within the estate for one day, but now with a second day of being cooped up while a new and exciting city just waiting to be explored lay just out of reach.... He was quite frankly concerned that she would wander off and get herself into trouble.

The agitation had been nagging at him all day and it had made him quite irritable. His ill-temperedness was particularly evident by the copious amount of silent glances that had passed between Jack, Ianto, and Gwen throughout the day. And all three felt great relief when the estate gates came into view through the carriage window that evening.

Novem jumped from the carriage before it had even fully stopped and went in search of his wife.

"Where is Rose?" he asked a passing servant as soon as he entered the entrance hall.

The servant turned and bowed before speaking, "She went into the town with Raffalo earlier."

"But I just saw Raffalo," piped up a guard stationed by the front door.

“They have returned?”

“Erm ... no, I saw Raffalo. I haven’t seen Lady Rose.” The guard shuffled his feet awkwardly as he spoke, knowing the significance of what he had said. He lowered his gaze in trepidation and did not raise it until Jack entered.

Novem looked between the servant and guard; a niggling apprehensive began gnawing at him.

“Bring Raffalo here. Now.”

There was a couple of tense moments as the group waited for Raffalo to arrive and Novem began to pace back and forth.

The servant arrived back with a very worried Raffalo in tow.

"Raffalo, where is Rose?"

Raffalo looked up at him with a mixture of apprehension and guilt. "We bumped into a friend of hers. They went for an early dinner and Rose sent me home. Majesty."

Novem's heart sank and his stomach clenched in dread. There was only one person who could make Rose send Raffalo home and stay out so late with no companion.

Not him, he thought. Please not him.

"Which friend, Raffalo?" he pressed.

Raffalo reluctantly muttered a name under her breath.

"Speak up," he said through gritted teeth.

"Lord Decem," Raffalo coughed, "It was Lord Decem that she met." 

Novem's face paled in response.

"Where did you leave them?"

"They were heading to Sea View Tea House."

Raffalo kept her head down, fearful to look up at the King and face his ire.

Novem stared at Raffalo for a few moments, his expression blank, before he called out to Jack. "Jack, get the carriage! Ianto and Gwen will come too. The rest of you back to your posts!"

There was a flurry of activity as everyone hurried to fulfil their King's orders and avoid any passing rage. Raffalo scurried back upstairs.

The carriage arrived out the front in record time.

“Where are we heading to in town?” Gwen asked as Novem stepped into the carriage.

“Raffalo had said that she left them heading to the tea house, so we will begin our search there.”

Jack looked as if he was going to say something but thought better of it and shook his head before climbing up on the front bench of the carriage with Ianto and Gwen.

The carriage ride into the town was agonisingly slow for Novem. His thoughts jumped from one thought to the next. He worried for Rose’s safety. Decem was a rake, a licentious man who would very likely to hurt Rose with his antics. Had he not hurt her already at that damned ball with Madame De Pompadour?

After what seemed like an age the carriage eventually came to a stop in front of the tea house. Novem sent Gwen and Ianto down the street to ask other shop owners while he and Jack went to the tea house.

The land lady looked up keenly when they entered, taking in their fine clothes and stature, and also noting their purposeful but tense expressions. She did not ask their names but addressed them respectfully.

"My Lords, what can I do for you this night?"

"We are looking for a young woman; we believe she was in here earlier with a young man."

"We've had several young couples in today." Novem's hands balled into fists at the term ‘young couple’. "Could you describe them, my Lord?"

"The young lady is blond with a red and blue dress; the young man is tall and thin with brown hair."

The land lady thought pensively for a few moments before replying, "Yes, I believe they were in earlier in the evening. They asked to take the Sea View parlour room upstairs for a bit of privacy. They had supper and were there for a while, but the young Lady left a bit upset and the young man went after her. They didn't come back."

"Did you see which way they went?" Jack pressed.

She nodded and pointed left, "They went that way, up the road."

"Thank you for your time and help," Jack said as he handed her a few gold coins.

"Thank you, my Lords," she smiled eagerly taking the money.

The two men left silently, and Jack gave his King a worried glance.

Novem did not need to look at Jack to know he was being watched. “I will be fine. I just need to find Rose.”

“She will be okay. Decem would not hurt her.”

“Not intentionally, but we both know what kind of man he is.”

Jack’s brow furrowed in renewed concern.

They made their way over to Gwen and Ianto who were standing by the carriage.

"Anything?" Novem asked.

"No, nothing yet."

Novem nodded, not overly surprised by the answer. "They were seen walking up this road, so you take that side, and we will take this one."

Ianto and Gwen left them with a quick pace up the left side of the street while Jack and Novem took the right.

They began the tedious job of walking from shop to shop inquiring about Rose and Decem. What information they did gather did nothing to ease either of their minds. Rose and Decem had appeared to be having, what the shop goers described as a lover’s tiff. It seemed that they had resolved this small spat only for another gentleman to show up. The young lady had not seemed to be impressed with the new arrival, but her lover did, and the two men had left together after some moments chatting, leaving the lady by herself.

Novems' temper was fraying as they reached yet another darkened tavern and he let Jack do the talking as they spoke to the landlord.

"Have you seen a blond woman in a blue and red dress, about this high?" Jack asked holding out his hand to indicate Rose's height.

"'D'you wake up with some sort of craving this morning or what?"

"No, I did not," Jack sighed, "Have you seen her?"

The landlord looked thoughtful, "Might have as a matter of fact. Blue and red dress you say?"

Jack nodded.

"Yes, I recon I did see her."

"Where?" Novem probed sternly.

"Running up the street she was. That way," he said as he pointed up the road.

"Running?"

"Yes, running. Like some'et or someone was after her."

"And you did not think to go after her; make sure she was alright?" A hard bite had entered Novem's voice.

The landlord shifted awkwardly on the spot under Novem's stern and intense gaze.

"'Twasn't my problem."

A muscle twitched in Novem's jaw.

"Round here see, folks don't go sticking their noses into other people’s business," he said defensively trying to draw himself up but deflating quickly as he continued, "'specially when folk's have a wife and children to look after. We don't want no trouble."

Novem remained unimpressed but the landlord could give them no more useful information, so they set off in the direction the landlord had seen Rose running. They had only made it a few steps outside the pub when they spotted Gwen and Ianto crosses the street to them, both looking very worried.

"Two well-known criminals, thugs really, have been spotted in the area today. They have been giving the locals a hard time all week," Ianto started.

"We think they went after Rose," Gwen finished.

Novem swore.

"Gwen, get the carriage. Ianto, find another carriage, something to transport these two thugs."

"Sire," they chorused before taking off with urgency.

Novem and Jack took off at a run up the road in search of Rose. They had gone some way when they heard a cry of pain from an alley up ahead. A silent look passed between the two men and they moved forward with quick and quiet steps. They slowed as they reached the alley mouth and crept to its edge.

The sight that greeted them in the darkened alley chilled Novem's blood to the bone. Two men, one big, one small, stood over a huddled figure on the ground. It was that shivering bundle of clothes that had cried out moments before and was now whimpering in pain and fear.

Through the gap between the two men Novem saw the face of the victim. His worst fears were confirmed as he watched a trail of blood running down the side of her face.

"Rose," he breathed.

Rage like nothing he had ever felt blossomed like an inferno in his chest. Those retched excuses of men had attacked his Rose. They had beaten her and now they were going to assault her. No! They would not lay one more hand on his wife. They were going to pay most dearly for their transgressions.

It would not be Rose who screamed this night but them.

He looked at Jack, years of training and fighting side by side had attuned them very well. They needed no words to plan out the attack, just a knowing look and a nod of confirmation.

The two thugs were so focused on Rose that they had no chance of a warning as Novem and Jack' approached. Jack went for the smaller man and Novem for the bigger man, the aggressor.

Novem felt the thrill of a predator as he stalked towards his prey. The silent, all-consuming rage urged him on every step demanding blood and pain.

The bigger man, Big Man, whispered sickly to Rose as he stood over her, “Scream for me.”

Novem’s gaze flickered to Rose. She looked up at her attacker, her eyes were full of fear as a sob bubbled up from her throat and tears rolled down her cheeks. She knew what was about to happen to her.

Rose’s fear was more motivation then Novem needed. He pounced, grabbing Big Man’s right arm, violently wrenching it behind the man’s back and aiming a well-placed kick at the back of his left knee causing Big Man’s legs to buckle and he fell to the ground.

Big Man screamed, partly in shock at the sudden attack and partly in pain as his arm was twisted to the point of breaking.

Rose froze at Big Man’s sudden scream, confusion and uncertainty played across her tear stained face.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you've made a big mistake. I'll tear you limb from limb when I find out you are!" Big Man seethed trying to turn his head to see who had attacked him.

"Some posh blokes judging by their clothes," Small Man spat out.

"Quiet You!" Jack snarled jabbing his dagger pointedly at Small Man’s lower back over his kidney.

"Oh, some sort of Lords are ye? You'll regret this! We'll have you both begging for mercy when we're through with ye!"

Novem let his captive have his small rant; he would not have another chance to threaten anyone for a very long time.

When Novem did reply it was in a soft and deadly voice, "It is you who will be doing the regretting."

Big Man’s bravado remained strong as he retorted, "Oh ya?"

"You really have no idea of what you have gotten yourself into."

"Why? Who are you?" Confusion and a hint of panic had entered his voice.

Novem leant over him and in the same deadly soft voice as before he uttered, "Me? I am the King."

Big Man scoffed at this statement but Novem gave his arm a sudden violent twist upwards and broke it was a satisfying crack and Big Man’s scoff turned into a scream of agony.

The small gasp of shock reminded Novem of Rose’s presence. She should not see this, he thought.

He looked up at her, "Close your eyes, Rose." She did so without any hesitation.

That’s my girl.

He glanced over to Jack to see if he was ready for what was to come. "Jack?"

"Majesty," he confirmed.

Novem turned his attention completely to the pathetic, piece of shit kneeling in front of him.

Novem dragged Big Man to his feet by his hair and shook his head violently. He then threw Big Man from himself with all his might, sending the man careening headfirst into the stone wall opposite. Novem swiftly followed his quarry grabbing him again by the hair at the back of his head and dragging him around until they were face to face. The man flinched and moaned in pain and tried to blink away some of the blood running into his eyes from his head wound.

Still grabbing him by the hair Novem leaned in, so close that their noses almost touched, and purred, "I am King Novem ruler of Gallifrey and ninth reigning King of the Medicus Dynasty. And tonight you attacked my wife, the women who in three months will be your Queen. You have made a very grievous mistake this night and you will pay dearly for it."

"Pplease, I didn’t mean - Argh!"

Novem kneed him in the groin and smashed his head back against the wall. His prey howled with pain as he was thrown to the ground whereupon Novem began to stamp on his knees, shattering both kneecaps.

Novem bent down, crouching predatorily over him. He grabbed Big Man by the lapels with one hand and began to punch him about the face again and again and again.

There were not enough walls in the entire Kingdom to contain and restrain him at that moment. He hauled back an arm and, pouring every drop of hatred into his swing, smashed his fist into the man’s face. He no longer saw, felt, or thought. All that was, all that mattered was that he kept punching. Anger sang in his veins, altered his very being, until he was not himself anymore, but someone else entirely, someone with a lust for blood and a bitter satisfaction at the solid thud of his fist into flesh.

"Majesty. Majesty! Sire! Novem!"

Novem stopped; his arm was mid draw, ready to land another blow. Jack knelt next to him clasping both his shoulders and looking slightly unnerved. Jack had just stopped shaking him.

Novem returned Jack's look of worry with one of confusion.

"I think that is enough. Unless you plan to kill him?"

Novem looked down. Big Man's face was a bloody mess, as was Novem's fist. Big Man was unconscious and would not wake any time soon.

Novem nodded, dropped Big Man and stood. Jack stood with him. He took a few deep breaths to steady his frantically beating heart and think of what to do next.

"Take them to the prison. Oh, and find the local Captain, I want to speak to him tomorrow morning, early."

"Sire," Jack nodded. "What of Rose?"

"I will get her back to the estate."

They both looked over at the figure huddled up in a tiny ball on the ground. It was a pitiful sight to see Rose who was normally so bright and quick witted reduced to such a state.

"She will need time to get passed this, but she is strong enough to do just that."

The sound of a carriage drew their eyes from Rose.

"That should be Ianto and Gwen," Jack said as he headed out of the alley.

He returned moments later with Ianto in tow.

"Sire," Ianto bowed, "Gwen has got your carriage just down the road. We managed to get a cart from that landlord you were speaking to earlier; Jack and I can take these two to the prison in that."

Novem clasped Jack’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze of thanks. "Good. Well done, all of you."

"Majesty," they bowed.

It took them a few minutes to lift the two men into the cart. Once done Jack and Ianto drove off and Gwen brought the carriage up to the alley.

Novem went to Rose. He kneeled down beside her and with great care touched her shoulder. The terror in her eyes when she looked up at him was enough to simultaneously inflame his rage and drown it.

"It is ok. It is over. Time to go," he whispered reassuringly.

Rose made an attempt to get up, but her arms and legs shook so much that she only managed to raise herself an inch or two off the ground before falling back down. Novem took her hands in his and all but lifted her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her with care and tenderly guided her to the carriage.

Gwen's expression when she saw Rose turned to one of worry to fury at the state Rose was in. She was likely wishing she could have had some time alone with those two thugs rather then he and Jack.

They both clambered into the carriage and Gwen got the horses moving.

It was quite a way back to the estate and Novem had plenty of time to think on the journey. Novem looked down at Rose curled up next to him and tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.

Those thugs would never set foot outside the prison for as long as they lived. He would quite happily put them to death, but he knew Rose would object to that. Even after what they had done to her she would not want them dead. His sweet Rose was too kind-hearted for her own good.

Novem put his head back against the seat and wrapped his arm more securely around Rose. Those two thugs would be taken care of but there was still one glaring problem, a veritable thorn in his side. Decem. He would have to pay Lord Decem a visit. Tonight.

When the carriage pulled up outside the front doors of the palace Novem gently encouraged Rose out of the carriage but once seeing that she was still in shock he lifted her up into his arms and cradled her to his chest. 

He turned to Jack, “Have my horse brought round.”

Jack nodded as Novem brought Rose inside, conveyed her back to her rooms and into the arms of a very anxious Raffalo.

"My Lady! What happened?"

"There was an accident, it has all been taken care of. Please look after Rose."

"Yes, of course, your Majesty."

Raffalo bowed low as Novem left the room and then quickly attended to Rose, rushing, and fussing about her like a mother hen.

When Novem returned to the front driveway there were two horses waiting.

“I am going alone Jack.”

“You cannot be serious. I cannot let you go wandering about the countryside at night by yourself.”

Novem ignored Jack’s incredulous tone. “It is not up for discussion.”

When Jack continued to look like he was going to continue objecting Novem swiftly put an end to it. “I am going alone, that is an order.”

Jack looked thoroughly disgruntled but relented with a bow and a “Yes, your Majesty.”

With matters settled Novem climbed on his horse and set off towards the city.

Unbeknownst to the King a small group of soldiers, including Jack, had set off after him within five minutes of his departure. As Jack had told them, his Majesty had said that no one could go with him; he had never said anything about not following him.

Novem’s first step to finding Decem would be the gentlemen’s club in the town. There were only three of them in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden and it was a sure bet that Decem and Saxon had visited one of them.

Novem had no luck with the first club but the host of the second club had confirmed that the two men had indeed been there earlier in the night for some hours before taking their leave and heading home.

The roads were deserted as Novem rode along them for which he was very grateful; he did not think he could control his temper if he came across anyone.

The closer he rode to Decem’s estate the more his anger grew, and it was only that his horse was picking up on his temper and getting jittery that he attempted to calm himself.

As Novem entered Decem’s estate he made note that it lacked guards, a foolish and arrogant decision on Decem’s part, thinking that he was untouchable and therefore did not need guards. This sheer display of arrogant hubris only served to fuel Novem’s anger.

Novem dismounted and banged furiously on the front door which was soon opened by an irate butler.

“What is the meaning-”

“Where is Decem?” Novem hissed.

“That is none of your business, you drunkard!”

Novem advanced on the butler growling, “Where is he? I will not ask a third time?”

“I do not know!”

“Do not lie to me!”

As Novem came closer he passed into the light from the manor giving a clear picture of who he was. At last recognising the visitor as the kingdom’s ruling monarch the butler stood a gape before squeaking “I wouldn’t dream of it, sire.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s in there,” said the valet, turning white as he indicated down the hall, “In the study, fourth door on the left.”

Novem marched down the hall and threw open the door with such force that it ricocheted off the wall. Decem who had been mid swig of a whiskey choked and spluttered at the commotion, alcohol staining the front of his shirt.

“You were with Rose this evening.”

Once recovered from the initially shock of the study door flying open and seeing the King standing on the threshold Decem took out a handkerchief and dabbed the front of his shirt. “So, what if I did?” he said nonchalantly.

Novem growled. "You left her unaccompanied in the dark to make her own way back to the summer palace? Have you any regard for her, for her safety?"

Decem finally took notice of the blood on Novem’s person. “Is she alright?” a note of doubt entered his voice.

“Barely,” he spat. “We arrived just in time, had we been any later....” he left the words hanging in the air ominously.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“No, you did not. That was half the problem but suffice to say from this point forth you shall continue to do nothing.”

“What?”

“You will not do anything that involves Rose. You will stay away from her.”

“You cannot tell me what to do. If Rose wants to see me then you cannot stop it.”

“You toyed with her affections. You would destroy a woman for sport!”

“Now hang on a minute!” Decem objected, his brow furrowing angrily. “A little light flirtation is hardly a crime. I gave her no assurances.”

"I am warning you Decem, stay away from Rose."

"Warn all you like but her heart belongs to me."

Novem advanced, now nose to nose with Decem. "I mean it, Decem."

“Her heart is mine no matter what you say, Novem," Decem said with a sneering smirk.

"I am your King, Decem and you will address me as such!" Novem shouted, spit flying from his mouth.

"My apologises, your Majesty," he bit back sarcastically. "No matter what titles you use it does not change the fact that her heart is mine, not yours."

Novem took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, “Stay away or you will regret it dearly.”

He turned and left, not waiting for Decem to respond.

The confrontation with Decem and the ride back to the manor did much to calm Novem but he had much to do tomorrow to try and remedy the mess that had been made.

When he arrived back at the palace it was to find Jack, a little out of breath, waiting for him.

“All sorted?”

“For now.”

Jack took the horse around to the stables which allowed Novem to head straight to Rose’s rooms. He knocked gentle on the door before entering. “I came to check on Rose. How is she?” he asked Raffalo.

“As well as can be expected, she fell asleep not long after you left.”

He went to the bed and sat on the edge. She looked so small and young when she slept. She would have looked peaceful had it not been for the furrow in her brow and the bruises beginning to show on her face.

"You are my wife; soon to be my Queen and no one, no one, will ever hurt you again. I promise," he whispered and leant over to kiss her gently on the forehead before taking his leave.

***


	22. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

The next morning Rose woke and looked around her room with a strange apathy, her mind sluggishly drawing up unwanted thoughts of the previous night. For a moment she was assailed by the memory of the attack and her flesh went cold.

She took the blanket at the end of her bed, draped it around herself and for no particular reason went over to the window. Her conscious mind shied away from the growing thoughts of what had occurred the night before.

The day was somewhat overcast, and the estate grounds appeared to have lost some of their vivid colour of the previous days. A dull rumbling shout from somewhere in the summer palace drew her attention from the window. She turned and tilled her head her curiosity piqued even in her beleaguered state.

Rose padded softly with bare feet across the bedroom and opened the door. She moved cautiously down the empty corridor pulling the blanket more securely around herself. She made her way downstairs on instinct and as she reached the ground floor she heard the raised voices again. 

They were emanating from Novem's study.

Rose crept towards the study door, curious to know who Novem was angry with. She was silently grateful that it was not her in there. He sounded furious.

"My Lady!" a voice called out just as Rose reached the door. Rose jumped in fright and scrambled to turn around.

Raffalo came hurrying over to her.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"I ... I ..."

Raffalo threw a concerned glare at the study door before chivvying Rose back upstairs not bothering to let her answer.

Raffalo seemed much happier once Rose was back tucked up in bed. She went about getting Rose her breakfast, which Rose ate with surprising gusto, and then she drew a hot bath for her.

Rose let out a small sigh of contentment as she soaked in the warm water. As Raffalo sponged her and washed her hair Rose felt like the dirt and grime of the previous night were being washed away and she began to feel a little bit more like her normal self.

The only thing that moved Rose from the bath was the cooling water and she reluctantly got out. Raffalo dried her and dressed her in a loose and comfortable sky-blue dress before setting about drying her hair.

As Raffalo ran a comb gently through her hair she spoke, "His Majesty would like to see you some time after lunch."

Rose did not say anything. She did not know what to say. The statement had filled her with a sudden sense off uneasiness. Novem had been tearing strips into some poor person that morning; he was hardly going to be in a better mood after lunch. Especially not after all the trouble she had caused yesterday. Again, thoughts of the previous night surfaced, and Rose did all she could to not think of them, to force them to the back of her mind.

She waited restlessly for lunch time to come around, barely touching her lunch.

Finally, Raffalo came to bring her down to Novem. Rose slowly and silently followed her lady’s maid down the corridors and stairs, her apprehension growing with each step.

Raffalo knock on the study door and they both heard Novem's sharp, "Enter."

"Lady Rose to see you, your Majesty," Raffalo bowed.

And there came the curt reply of, "Thank you."

Raffalo bowed again and left the room, giving Rose's arm a quick squeeze of reassurance as she did.

Wearing his customary black coat and waistcoat Novem sat at his desk writing and did not look up as Rose stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.

Unbeknownst to Rose, Novem had called in to check earlier that morning and when he had seen the bruises on her body it was all he could do to restrain himself from marching down to the gaol house and killing both men himself. He had been angry enough at the thought of someone frightening Rose. But to see what they had done to her. To have left such marks on her body attested to the level of violence that told its own story. There was only one reason men would attack a woman like that.

He could not look at her now for fear the very sight of her would break his resolve and turn him into a murderer.

"Are you going to stand there like a child all day or are you going to sit down?" he said nonchalantly.

Again, he did not look up. Rose gulped. He was furious with her.

“What happened last night must never be allowed to occur again."

"It won't! I promise. I will never do something so stupid and irresponsible ever again. It will never happen again," Rose gushed earnestly.

"Oh, I intend to make sure that such a situation never occurs again," he said, looking up at last.

Rose stared at him in puzzlement.

“I told you to stay within the estate grounds, you disobeyed that order. You not only went without a guard to endure your safety, but you put yourself and Raffalo in danger. You then proceeded to send Raffalo home alone leaving you open to ridicule, slander, and the danger of town.

"You had no companion, no guard, and no relative to watch over you which resulted in your assault. You had me, Jack, Gwen and Ianto tearing across the countryside and town looking for you, also putting our lives at risk. Your recklessness put more than yourself in danger.

"How is the kingdom meant to seriously consider you their Queen if you go around acting like a reckless teenager? There have already been objections to our marriage based on your low social status; the peerage would have more than enough reason to draw up a formal petition of objection with what occurred yesterday."

"I am sorry! I am so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen," Rose cried, burying her face in her hands.

Novem was silent for a few moments before he seemed to relent. He walked over to where Rose sat and knelt next to her.

"I know you did not", he whispered softly, gently rubbing her back.

Rose looked up at him through tear blurred eyes.

He took one of her hands in both his and softly kissed the back of it.

"Unfortunately, I need to make sure that it does not happen again, to regain the trust of the guards and servants and most importantly to protect your reputation as future Queen."

Rose nodded, "I promise -"

Novem shook his head, "You misunderstand my meaning. I cannot just take your word for it. I need someone else's validation as well."

Rose's brow furrowed.

"From now on you will not go anywhere without either myself or one of the guards going with you."

"What?"

Novem stood. "If you walk around the castle, go to the library, go to a ball or event, take a stroll through the gardens, go shopping in the city, go riding in the countryside, someone will be with you."

"Cannot Raffalo -"

"Oh no, Raffalo will still attend you and she may accompany you but a member of the royal guard or myself must be with you at all times."

Rose jumped up in indignation at the thought of being treated like a misbehaving child, her voice rising as she said, "But that is not fair!"

Novem bared down on her and she shrank back into the chair, reminded of Big Man.

"Oh, I assure you it is entirely fair. By all rights I should have dragged you back to the castle this morning, thrown you into the royal apartments and not let you leave until your coronation."

Novem softened as he saw her fear.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you."

He knelt in front of her again and cupped her cheek so she would look at him.

"All of this is to protect you; do you not see? I have never been so terrified as I was last night when I thought I had lost you."

There was an intensity in his gaze that overwhelmed Rose.

"I never want to feel like that ever again. I will protect you until my dying breath and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Novem leant forward so that their foreheads were touching.

"Let me keep you safe. Please."

"Okay." How could she say anything else to such a speech and entreaty?

"That's my Rose."

Novem stood and offered his hand to Rose to help her up.

"You should head back upstairs to bed, you look tired. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours."

He led Rose out of the study and up to her room where Raffalo was waiting.

~~*~~

Rose spent the rest of the evening and most of the next day in her rooms. Her bruises had come up fully and had turned a brilliant shade of bluish-purple and once the shock had worn off her body and muscles had begun to ache quite severely.

The hours spent on her own with only Raffalo or Gwen calling in to check up on her had given her plenty of time to think about what had happened, her own stupidity and recklessness, and the inevitable consequences that she was now facing.

She berated herself, thinking about how a proper Queen-to-be would have acted. Someone like Jabe from the Forest of Cheem would never have done something so stupid and reckless. Jabe would have acted with proper decorum and dignity at all times, while Rose had acted like a reckless teenage who was certainly not fit to be Queen.

She felt that she would never be able to apologise enough to Novem for what she had done, they had become quite close on the journey down and the first day and then she had gone a ruined it all with her foolishness.

Driven by a need to make things right she left her room and moved silently along the landing and down the stairs.

In the dim light of the study she saw Novem. He had his back to her. The light fell on his strong hands braced against the mantelpiece. He had discarded his coat, waistcoat and neckcloth and above his dark coloured breeches and black boots his fine white linen shirt was stretched taut across his powerful shoulders. His head was bowed, his short hair tousled, a stray lock falling over his brow.

"Novem?" Rose said at last summoning all her courage.

At the sound of her voice he turned his head slightly and she saw the stern pride stamped on his face, his jaw as ridged as granite. In agonised silence he looked at her for several seconds, his face preoccupied and stony. He looked like a man in the grip of a nightmare.

"I am sorry," she murmured softly unable to maintain eye contact. "I ... I ... I will leave you. I did not mean to disturb you." Her courage broke and Rose turned to leave the room.

"Wait," he said, striding towards her as she turned away. "Promise me you will not see him again."

There was no room for doubt as to who the 'him' was. It was at this point that Rose finally realised that Novem knew, he knew how much she cared for Decem, knew how she had wished to marry Decem over him. That knowledge, it was killing him.

The thought of not seeing Decem again was enough to break Rose's heart. But she had very nearly broken Novem's heart, not just over the last two days but in her continued display of her preference for Decem. The King was a good and decent man and she had caused him such pain with her selfishness. Any heartache on her part was surely penitence for the chaos she had caused.

Swallowing hard she whispered, "I promise."

Novem's whole body visible relaxed and he kissed her forehead.

"You should go back to bed, we leave early tomorrow," he told her gently.

"You should go too; you need rest as well."

"I will, shortly. Now off with you."

~~*~~

The royal party left Torchwood Palace early the following day bound for Lord Moax’s estate. Rose looked up at the summer palace from the carriage window as they pulled off with a mixture of feelings, each emotion battled with the others leaving Rose in a state of emotional confusion.

To distract herself from these rivalling emotions she thought of the next three weeks. While these thoughts produced their own emotions there was at least a practical element for Rose to concentrate on.

Letters had already gone out to Lord Moax and to Tardis Palace alerting them that Rose had fallen quite ill and would not be up to any visitors. This would mean that she would stay in her room at Lord Moax’s, and in the royal apartments when they reached the capital. Only a handful of people, including Novem and Raffalo, would be able to see her and after three weeks she would be declared well again, thereby giving her bruises plenty of time to fully heal and fade.

Rose’s thoughts were interrupted when the carriage slowed to a stop. They had a short stop at the beach where Novem had granted Rose one last visit to the sea before they left, for which she was grateful.

Rose stood just out of reach of the waves and her churning emotions resurfaced. The sea, which had only four days previous offered her such joy and happiness, now seemed to hold little enjoyment or pleasure.

She felt stupid for being so helpless, for letting herself get into the situation where she was able to be attacked and then for being so useless and terrified that she could not defend herself. She did not want to admit it, but she had been exceedingly foolish and reckless and now she was paying the price.

She was very glad of both Novem's and Jack's presence not far from her. They stood some feet away, giving her own space but also close enough to offer her security and peace of mind. She was very glad of their reassuring and protective presence.

Jack slowly approached her. He stood next to her in silence for some time before speaking.

"Are you alright?" he asked turning his head to look at her.

"Yes. I am fine."

Rose remained looking forward.

Jack's only response was to raise one eyebrow in an unconvinced manner.

Rose sensing his gaze flashed him a sad smile and said, "I will be fine, but it will take time."

Jack nodded seeming more satisfied with this answer.

“Novem and I were talking and we both feel, that is, his Majesty feels it would be beneficial for you to learn how to defend yourself. What do you think?"

Rose paused and finding that she liked the idea nodded.

"Who would be teaching me?" she questioned.

"I would," Jack grinned.

“Not Gwen?”

Jack’s expression faltered ever so slightly. “Gwen could train you, if that is what you wish.”

"No, I would be very happy to get some training from you."

"Excellent!"

The fact that Novem had continued to think of her safety and peace of mind despite what had happened made Rose both exceedingly happy and embarrassed. But she vowed to herself as the carriage took off once more leaving the sea behind them that she would do her very best to make it up to Novem, to prove to him and the rest of the court that she would be a good Queen.

~~*~~

After the first week the bruises turned a greenish yellow colour, by the second week they were a light brown colour and by the end of the third week they had faded altogether.

Novem’s birthday celebrations took place during the second week of Rose’s confinement. She was both disappointed and relieved over missing the ball. She missed seeing her friends and a ball was always fun, but she was still feeling the aftereffects of the attack and the thought of being in such a large crowd, surrounded by all those people made her uneasy.

Novem visited Rose daily over the three weeks. While at first these visits were done out of a sense of duty on Novem’s part with stilted conversations, as the days passed and the effects of the events at Dårlig Ulv-Stranden lessened their conversations began to flow more easily and they began to simply enjoy being in each other’s company.

Over the course of one of Novem’s visits in the third week they had even discussed going into the poor district so that Rose could get an idea of the work that she would be doing as Queen after the coronation. Although Rose would need to complete some of her training with Jack before they went on that particular excursion.

During her time of seclusion Rose’s lessons with Mr. Finch were also reprised, much to Rose’s disappointment, for her to learn the basics of the coronation process. The lessons took place in one of the smaller Queen’s apartment rooms with Rose seated in a far more comfortable chair compared to the hard-backed wooden visitor’s chair in Finch’s office. Mr. Finch stood seemingly unencumbered by the change in scenery or Rose’s fading bruises and remaining as straight backed and haughty as ever.

“It is really quite simple” he began with his customary air of superiority, “A coronation is a ceremony marking the formal investiture of a monarch or their consort, that is you,” he said indicating Rose, “with regal power, usually involving the placement of a crown upon his or her head and the presentation of other items of regalia.”

As he continued, he turned from Rose and proceeded to look out of the office window, hands clasped behind his back. “The essential elements of the coronation have remained largely unchanged for the past thousand years. The sovereign is first presented to, and acclaimed by, the people. He or she then swears an oath to uphold the Law of the Land. Following that, the monarch is crowned, and invested with the regalia, before receiving the homage of his or her subjects.”

“May I ask,” Rose began hesitantly, “about His Majesty’s coronation?” With her own coronation growing ever nearer Rose had begun wondering more and more about Novem’s and what it had been like.

Mr. Finch gave an exasperated sigh.

“His Majesty’s coronation took place several months after the death of the previous monarchs, both his father and mother, once the period of mourning was complete. As a coronation is considered a joyous occasion it is considered inappropriate to have one when mourning still continues. This also gives planners enough time to complete the elaborate arrangements required.”

“Now if I may continue with the lesson?” he asked rhetorically in an irritated tone. “As I mentioned the Gallifreyan coronation ceremony has remained essentially the same for over a thousand years. For all of those years, the ceremony has taken place in the Great Hall here at the palace and the service will be conducted by the High Priest of the four churches of Time, Death, Life and Pain. Representatives from all the important noble families from Gallifrey and other kingdoms will be present.”

Rose’s shoulders dropped in disappointment by the lack of detail but there seemed to be no stopping Mr. Finch’s lecture.

Finch continued in this vein for some time detailing every minute element of the ceremony. Rose emerged from the room some hours later with a throbbing headache and desire for a very large glass of wine.

~~*~~

Rose’s first training lesson with Jack was scheduled for the end of the third week of her confinement. It was a day she very much looked forward to, a day where she would finally begin to feel strong, to not feel vulnerable.

In regard to the dangers of the city and the dangers against women Rose had had a sheltered life. That night in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden had been a rude awakening and she now recognised how much she needed to be prepared and aware of her surroundings and the possible dangers.

For the training session Rose had dressed in a basic plain brown work dress that would allow her to move more easily than many of her other dresses. This dress also happened to be slightly shorter than her normal dresses meaning she had less chance of tripping herself up.

Jack had set up in one of the disused rooms on the fourth floor close to the staircase leading to the royal apartments. It was a sizable room with ample room for their needs and devoid of any furniture. Jack had her do some exercises before beginning the training proper.

"Right then. First things first, what to do if someone grabs your wrist? This is probably one of the more frequent ways someone will try and grab you. I will show you what to do first and then I will get you to try it, okay?"

"Alright," she apprehensively replied.

"So, grab my wrist."

Jack offered her his left arm and Rose took hold of his wrist in a fairly tight grip. In one swift and fluid movement Jack swept his arm in a loop and easily broke her grip. This happened twice more before Jack explained it to her. He took her wrist this time and as he did Rose felt and uncalled for feeling of anxiety and fear. She tried to push the feeling down and concentrate on what Jack was saying but it was very difficult.

"When someone grabs your wrist the weakest part if their grip is the point where their thumb meets their fingers. If you push against this point you will be able to break their hold."

He took her hand and demonstrated pushing it against his fingers which did nothing and then against the juncture between fingers and thumb which gave way with enough pressure. He then got Rose to try it herself.

Her fist attempt was simply awful; she was self-conscious, nervous, and unsure. It was very awkward, but she eventually managed to free her arm. Jack made her repeat the exercise again and again until she was freeing herself with quick and fluid movements. As Rose began focusing on the training and less on her own self-doubts she soon forgot much of her anxiety.

"Well done. I think we will leave it there for now and move on to how to hit someone properly. Show me how you would punch someone."

Rose having never punched someone in her life just threw out her arm in what she thought was a reasonable attempt. It turned out it was anything but reasonable.

Jack burst into a fit of laughter at seeing her version of a punch.

"If you ever tried to hit someone like that the only person you would be hurting would be yourself. You will break your wrist doing that. First of all, you should be using your whole arm, not just hand, wrist and forearm. Keep your thumb outside your fingers so that you do not break your thumb. Your wrist should be straight not bent again so you do not break it. And keep your arm strong and firm but not locked to get the most power but to be loose enough to absorb the reverberation. There is some kickback when you hit someone, see?”

He demonstrated a few times for her and then she tried. The first few attempts were ungainly, and Jack had to fix her stance to where it should be, but she eventually began to understand and get the hang of how to do it. Once Jack was satisfied with her technique he moved onto the next exercise.

"One of the best places to hit someone who is threatening you or is about to attack is in the eye. It does not matter if you just poke them or try to gouge them out; someone with an injured eye is not going to be able to attack you properly."

Rose nodded her understanding.

"After that there is the nose. Have you ever banged your nose?"

"Yes, and it hurt!"

"Exactly. You do not have to break the nose, but it will still hurt like nobody's business. Best to use the heel of your palm," he indicated the base of her palm just above her wrist, "Do the exact same thing as if you were punching but angle and hit upwards."

Rose practiced it for a short while until she got the hang of it and they moved on to the final exercise of the day.

"Now if all else fails you can knee an attacker in the groin."

Rose looked at him sharply and raised her eyebrows, the faintest of blushes beginning on her cheeks. Jack shrugged in apology.

"It may be indecent for us to speak of such a thing ordinarily but when it comes to your safety I think propriety will have to be set aside."

Rose although taken aback and somewhat embarrassed by the topic agreed with Jack. Propriety could be set aside for the sake of one's safety. If this training meant she did not have to feel so scared and weak then she could and would set aside normal rules of convention.

As before Jack demonstrated the correct technique and Rose practiced until he was happy that she could do it properly.

"We shall leave it there for today. We can organise more training next week. There is no rush now that you have the basics. I will also ask Gwen to organise getting you one of the skirt-trousers and you can train with that for a session or two.”

"Thank you, Jack. I think this will really help."

"I am glad," he smiled.

~~*~~

It was the following evening before Rose saw Novem again.

As the last day of her confinement Novem took Rose out for a walk in the gardens. To avoid any awkward questions and curious eyes they went at the evening mealtime so that most, if not all, the courtiers would be otherwise engaged. This proved to be a good plan as the gardens deserted when they arrived.

They strolled down one of the tree lined paths, the setting sun elongating the shadows on the ground. Novem enquired about how she was feeling re-entering court and Rose acknowledged that she was somewhat nervous about the amount of attention that she would receive.

“You should take it easy for the first couple of days and not overexert yourself,” Novem cautioned her.

“I know and I will. I will only see my close friends to begin with, Martha and the other.”

“Good," Novem nodded, pleased with her answer. “I hear that the training with Jack went well yesterday?"

"Yes, it went very well," she smiled. "I learned quite a lot."

"Oh?" Novem raised his eyebrow in question. "Does that mean I will need to watch myself around you from now on?"

Rose glanced at him, unsure if he was joking or not but the quirk of his lips and the mischievous gleam in his eyes told her that he was.

"Oh absolutely. You had better be on your best behaviour from now on," she teased.

"Oh, had I? And what exactly has my esteemed Captain of the Guard been teaching you?" he countered as they slowed to a near stop.

Rose turned to him and grinned like a child on their birthday.

"That, my dear Novem, is for me to know and you to find out."

And with that she sauntered off down the path leaving a bemused Novem behind her.

***


	23. The Palace Reservoir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem

It had been two weeks since Rose began her training with Jack, and she was immensely enjoying the two sessions a week. They continued hand-to-hand combat, working on further defensive and offensive techniques, and dealing with an armed opponent. Jack had also drawn up an exercise regime for Rose, giving her stretches, exercises, and techniques to practice between sessions.

The pair had been discussing moving on to weapons training in the near future. Jack had suggested focusing on daggers, particularly stiletto blades, saying they would be quick to hand, easy for Rose to use and to conceal on her person. Later they could work on archery, which Rose had not tried since she was a young girl, throwing knives and swords. Any other weapons Rose was interested in learning how to use could be investigated after that.

It was during one of the sessions in the second week that Ianto stopped by.

“Ah, Ianto. Checking up on us?” Jack teased.

Ianto gave a self-conscious cough, “No. I came to see if you needed any assistance.”

Jack thought about the suggestion for a moment before saying, “Well, now that you mention it, I could use some help with showing Rose how to deal with someone who is pinning her down.”

Ianto’s eyes widened a fraction but he nodded and made his way over to the training area.

Jack acted as the victim and Ianto the aggressor.

Rose tried to concentrate on the technique, but she could not help but notice that Ianto was blushing, quite a lot. And if she was not mistaken there was a faint flush on Jack’s cheeks too, that had not been there a short while earlier.

Jack went through the moves a further two times before asking if Rose wanted to try.

She nodded hesitantly.

It was awkward at first, being so close and being in a compromising position, but Jack was ever the professional and after a number of tries Rose began to get the hang of it.

Once satisfied Jack helped Rose to her feet and said “I will ask Gwen to drop by and go through it with you again in a few days. She might also have some tips that I do not know about.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

He turned to Ianto, “We are almost done here so if you need to be elsewhere.”

Again, Rose observed the pink cheeks on both men and how Ianto could not quite look Jack in the eye. She watched Ianto leave pondering the whole situation.

When the door closed fully, she turned to Jack, “So…”

“So?”

“You and Ianto?”

“What about me and Ianto?” Jack said, moving over to the window and glancing back at her.

“Jack,” Rose gave him an exacerbated look before her expression softened. “We are friends, are we not? You have counselled and been there for me in the past, let me do the same for you. You can talk to me.

Jack sighed, running his hands down his face, and leaning against the windowsill. “I like him.”

“And he likes you.”

“Yes. But he is a junior officer under my command.”

“Are there rules against such matches?”

“No.”

“Then what is the problem? You cannot think Novem would object?” Rose moved across the room to stand next to Jack.

“No! Gods, no. I … I do not want to hurt Ianto.”

“Why would you … How would you hurt him?”

“You know Ianto, he is reserved and does not show affection outwardly. Me on the other hand, always one for conversation and no sense of shame, I would flirt with anyone. We are so different, and I do not want my personality, my actions, to end up hurting him.”

“Oh Jack,” Rose placed a hand on Jack’s arm, “You are two very different people, but you would not hurt Ianto. I guarantee it. You are a good man Jack Harkness, sometimes I think you forget that.”

“You are too kind to me, Rose.”

“Do not just take my word for it, speak to Novem. He has known you for a lot longer than I and he will tell you the same.”

Jack gave a huff of laughter.

“I mean it, speak to Novem, Jack. Trust his judgement of your character. And trust yourself too.”

Jack squeezed her hand, “Thank you, Rose.”

~~*~~

Novem had been attempting to organise an afternoon together with Rose for over a week, but everything thus far had fallen through – council meetings, petitions, and the skirmishes in southern border which had flared up again had all gotten in the way. It reached the point where Rose wondered if she would ever see her husband again. When she had all but given up hope they managed, at last, to have an afternoon to themselves. Or so they thought.

The afternoon had started out well. They had ordered food and sat down in Novem’s sitting room to converse. He had asked about her training with Jack and her lessons with Mr. Finch and she had enquired about his meetings and busy schedule. Then the interruptions began.

There were two before dinner arrived, both times it was documents that needed signing urgently. There were a further three during dinner – the council required a final decision, aid for a flooded town, and a rather divisive argument between two courtiers which called for a speedy resolution.

Rose could see the stress build in Novem, his tense shoulders, clenched jaw, and deepening scowl, as the afternoon worn on. The evening was not going the way either of them had hoped. It was supposed to be an evening to reconnect with each other. Instead it was fractured conversation broken by constant interruptions.

There was yet another interruption after dinner. They had just settled themselves back in the sitting room when a captain knocked at the door. He passed Novem a hefty file of papers – information, positions, and tactics for the southern border, all needing to be checked and gone through with the War Council immediately.

“It will wait until tomorrow,” Novem barked.

"But your Majesty!"

"Tomorrow, lieutenant. Now, good evening!"

Novem's brusque manner had the poor lieutenant stumbling backwards in hast to avoid having the door shut in his face.

Novem turned back around to Rose pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Can we not have one moment of peace?" he muttered more to himself then to Rose.

With a heavy sigh he made his way back to the table, "I apologise, Rose. This is not how I wished the evening to proceed."

Before Rose go say more than, "It is not a problem," there was another knock on the door.

Rose nearly laughed at Novem's expression if she had not feared it would cause his ire to grow even more.

"This will not do. This will not do," he muttered stalking to the door which he wrenched open. “Unless we are under immediate attack or there is another coup I do not want to be disturbed for the rest of the evening. The next person to knock at my door will end up in the stocks!”

He shut the door in the sergeant’s face, who had been standing, eyes wide, like a rabbit caught in the glare of a hunter’s torch light.

Novem leaned against the door for a moment and took a few breaths. When calmed he pushed off the door and moved towards Rose.

"We will have our peace, Rose. Come," he held out his hand and after a moment’s hesitation Rose took it.

Novem led her out through the servant's door and down through the winding twisting narrow passages of the servant’s corridors.

"Where are we going?" Rose asked eventually.

"You will see," he replied with an air of mystery and a twitch of his lips.

Rose frowned at him, but she did not press the matter and let him have his mystery.

After some time, they exited the passageways and came out in an area of the palace that Rose had never been to. The corridors were wider and far less decorated than the main halls. The immediate vicinity was deserted save for a pair of guards defending a set of large plain double doors at the far end.

Novem had dropped her hand when they exited the servant’s corridors and now pointed down towards the guards.

"This way."

Rose followed wordlessly, their footsteps echoing somewhat in the empty corridor. She wanted to ask more questions, but the silence of corridor kept her from voicing them.

"Majesty, milady," the guards saluted and opened the door once the royal couple drew level with them.

Rose and Novem passed through the doors and entered a small dark and cold room that was lit by only a single torch.

Novem took the torch from its sconce and proceeded to the far side of the room where the light revealed a staircase. The flight of stairs descended down passed the torch’s light into utter darkness.

Rose found herself rooted to the spot even though Novem had moved away from her down the steps. Looking into the darkness and the unknown she was gripped by uncertainty and fear, and she did not understand why.

Novem had taken a few steps down before he realised Rose had not followed him. He turned back to face her.

He saw her hesitation and made to reassure her, "You have nothing to fear." He extended his hand again. "Trust me."

Doubt plagued Rose but as she looked at him his expression was open, the fire light causing his eyes to dance.

Did she trust him? The man who was her husband and who would soon call her his Queen? This man she hardly knew. Yes, she thought, she did trust him, although she did not know why. There was just something about him, something that told her she could trust him. And so she did.

Rose moved towards him and, like earlier, took his hand. He gave a small smile and tuned to make his way down the staircase to the dark depths below.

Every now and again they came upon another unlit torch which Novem would light.

After some time, Rose felt a change in the air, it grew lighter and less stuffy.

"Careful up here, stay to the right,” Novem warned. “The left wall gives way, there is a barrier, but it can be quite disconcerting. Particular if it is your first trip down here."

"That does not sound at all ominous," Rose muttered dryly to herself but in the quiet empty expanse of the tunnel Novem heard.

He gave a small snort of laughter before replying, "So it does."

Rose gave him a small glare of annoyance at his lack of concern, but she was more pleased that there was some bantering between them.

Just as Novem had said the left side of the tunnel gave way and was accompanied by a further change in the air. The air was crisper and there was an almost imperceptible breeze and, although she could not see it, Rose could sense that they had entered a large room.

At last the steps came to an end and Novem stopped and held the torch up high, the light shone on a large stone arch. The arch itself was plain enough except for the stone at its centre, a grey stone that seemed to sparkle and glitter. A stone Rose recognised as a much larger version of her necklace, the one Novem had given her, the one that had been his mother’s, a family heirloom.

Curious as to why it was here of all places, she asked Novem.

“Ah, you recognise the Key stone,” he said. “They used to decorate key stone over door arches all around the palace, but their expense made them a target for thieves, and many were stolen. Now, they have long since been hidden away and this last one remains over this entrance.”

Before she could enquire as to where “this entrance” was Novem led her further on.

Rose gave a sharp intake of breath of surprise as the light from the torch illuminate the glistening surface of still water.

At last she asked her question, "Where are we?"

"This,” Novem said with a sweeping gesture, “is the palace reservoir."

Rose could not see much but she could sense the great expanse around her. She looked up but even the roof was hidden in the darkness.

"Come, I will show you around."

Novem led her around the edge of the room, lighting the torches as he went.

As they made their way around Rose gathered a better idea of the room's layout. Their route continued in a circular pattern; a large path ringing its way around the reservoir’s basin of water.

A glinting from high above her caught her eye.

"What is up there?"

The air of mystery and mischievous gleam were back, "You will see that in a minute."

Rose gave a huff, he seemed to find teasing her with mysteries far too amusing.

Rose craned her neck trying to get a better look at the ceiling. So concerned with the scenery that she forgot to watch where see was walking and caught her foot on a loose rock. She stumbled and scrambled to regain her balance.

A pair of strong arms reached out and grabbed her helping her find her footing.

"Careful. I will show you everything, all in good time."

Rose flushed with embarrassment, but she could not help but delight in the fact that Novem now stood so close to her.

He was a very handsome man. At times like now her mind still struggled to comprehend that she had married the King. That this handsome man who held her in his arms with so much care was the King and held so much power, but that he was also her husband.

Satisfied that Rose was alright Novem reluctantly let go of her and continued on.

They at last made their way back to the staircase and it was only then that Rose noticed a small boat tied up at the edge of the water.

Novem came to stand behind her and pointed up to the ceiling, "See up there?"

Rose look and gasped, now with all the torches were lit the small glinting that she had noticed earlier had been transformed into a sea of stars.

"What are they?"

"Stones, crystals, gems. A handful where there naturally but most were added."

"It is beautiful, like the night's sky."

Rose turned back to look at Novem and noticed just how close he was to her; they were mere inches apart.

"It gets better, the view from the boat in the centre is second to none. Would you like to see it?" he asked. His voice had taken on a soft and wistful tone, something that was so foreign to what she was used to hearing.

Rose nodded enthusiastically, "Yes."

Novem, pleased with her answer, took her hand in his once more and helped her into the boat.

It was very much a leisure boat, wide and shallow, with so many cushions and pillows that one could hardly tell you were on a boat.

Rose made herself comfortable among the cushions and pillows at one end of the boat while Novem sat in the middle and picked up the oars.

He made slow leisurely stokes bringing the boat slowly but steadily out into the centre of the reservoir.

Rose let a hand hang lazily over the side of the boat to skim the water as they went. The water was surprisingly cold, and she soon drew her hand back from the icy liquid.

When they reached the centre Novem pulled the oars in and said, "Now lay back and look up."

Rose did as she was told and found herself looking up at a spectacular scene.

The light from the torches all around the room danced and refracted off the milieu of crystals and gems, creating a dazzling scene that mimicked the night sky.

Rose soon found herself lost to those stars.

It could have been seconds or hours later, she did not know, when Novem's quiet voice broke through her reverie.

"I have not been here in such a long time. This used to be my hid away. From my tutors, my duties, my parents," he paused. “The last time I was here was the night before my coronation."

Rose looked up from where she was lying to watch him. He lay out over the many cushions and pillows in a most unguarded manner.

Rose remained silent, she did not know what to say, if anything. Was there even anything she could say? What he had just told her about this place, it clearly meant a lot to him. He had brought her here to a place that was his, that held such intimate meaning to him. Rose do not know how to feel about that. She was flattered of course. Who wouldn’t be?

But the meaning of it all, it unnerved her slightly and she shied away from thinking about it too deeply. She had not planned on these feelings, her marriage was a power move, not a love match. And yet the emotions swirling around within her were bordering on something much more than affection and fondness. She was not ready to think about it, the seriousness of it all. 

After a long stretch of silence, she found the right words and said, “It is beautiful.” She hoped he would infer all the unspoken words and feelings she could not yet voice in those three words. She then lay back down and looked up at her stars and became once most lost in the quiet majesty of it all.

While she was not ready to examine her own feelings, she was more than delighted that Novem had brought her here. He had asked her to trust him earlier and she had, but in bringing her here Novem was showing her that he trusted her too. After what happened in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden Novem’s trust was something she treasured.

She did not know how much time had passed; it was impossible to tell down here. But eventually Novem made a move to sit up, "We must be getting back, or they may think one of us has been kidnapped."

"Only one of us?" Rose quipped.

"Or they may think _we_ have been kidnapped," Novem corrected with a wry grin.

Rose hesitated when they reached the shore, a part of her did not want to leave.

Novem watched her with a soft smile, "I know the feeling. We can visit again if you so wish."

"I would like that."

Novem nodded

They stood together in intimate silence for a few more moments before Novem turned and Rose followed. It was time to go back and they began the long climb back up to the palace.

They remained silent on their journey back. What had passed that evening was something words could not match. Novem had opened up to Rose and she had accepted and cherished his vulnerability. They had grown closer.

When they reached the corridor Novem spoke briefly with the guards asking them to douse the torches in the reservoir and then they made their way back through the servant’s passages to the royal apartments.

No sooner were they back then there was another knock at the door.

Novem gave Rose an exasperated look followed by an apologetic one.

Rose gave him a reassuring smile before leaning up an pressing a quick kiss on his cheek. “I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Rose.”

***


	24. Duties and the Poor District

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem

A week later Rose returned from one of the training sessions with Jack to find a very excited Martha waiting for her in the sitting room of her apartments.

“Martha, what is it?” she asked bewildered.

Martha beamed, “Oh Rose, I have the most wonderful news!”

“Well go on then, do not leave me in suspense.”

“Mickey and I are engaged!”

“Engaged to be married? Oh, Martha that is wonderful news!” Rose throw her arms around Martha and held her tightly. “I cannot say that I am surprised though. It is about time he asked. Or did you ask?”

“Well that a bit of a funny story.”

Rose gave Martha a curious look as the pair moved over to the couch and said down.

“We kind of both proposed to each other at the same time,” Martha said, her tone full of levity.

Rose laughed, “Well if ever there was a sign that two people were right for each other that is certainly one of them!”

Martha beamed.

“What are your plans? Are you both going to stay here or move away?”

“Well, that is the other part of my news.”

“Go on!”

“I spoke to the King a few weeks ago.”

“He never said a word.”

“I wanted it kept quiet in case things did not work out. But they have so here we are. Anyway, you know I have always wanted to continue my medical training professionally, not just personal study?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the King organised for me to speak with Doctor Constantine and I met with him yesterday. Oh Rose, he has agreed to take me on as an intern! I already have a great deal of knowledge so I will be with him for a few months and once he is satisfied, Mickey and I will head south and I will continue my training there.”

“Oh Martha, that is fantastic! Will you be going south to Arcadia or to the borders?”

“To the borders. Mickey would like to continue his own training before we work out what is happening with the estate.”

“So much change. Things are all falling into place.”

“For both of us.”

Rose was not surprised by Martha’s news and she was truly happy for both of her friends, but as she watched Martha talk animatedly about all of her and Mickey’s plans, she felt a sadness rise within her. In a few months two of the most important people in her life would be gone from the capital. She wished Martha and Mickey every happiness, there wasn’t anyone more deserving, but she would miss them both dearly.

~~*~~

Things had changed between Rose and Novem, their trip to the Reservoir had altered their relationship, they were equals now.

Within the week Novem had cancelled Rose’s lessons with Mr. Finch, saying practical experience would serve her far better than any classroom lesson. And from then on, he had her participating in more and more of the day to day running of the kingdom. He asked her opinion more often too.

Following some initial apprehension, she threw herself into her work. After what had happened in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden she was determined to prove that she could, and would, be an asset to him and the kingdom, and she put all thoughts of Decem out of her mind. She would make it up to Novem and show him that he had not been mistaken in forgiving her folly or opening up to her.

The first time Novem had asked for her opinion after the evening in the reservoir it had been quite a shock.

Rose had been in her dining room, leaning over the table and pouring over the old kingdom documents which littered the surface, trying to take in the minute details of court life and the kingdom in the past to help her in the present. There were societal clippings, order records, transcripts of council meetings, logs of decisions made by the previous monarchs. It was a daunting task but one she was determined to complete.

“What do you think of these new furnishings for the lower salons?” he had asked, handing Rose a hefty file of drawings, swatches, and costings. “Do you have any preferences?”

“Me?” she had squeaked, startled that he had asked for her input. She had assumed he would just do as he pleased.

“Yes, you. This is your home now too and you will have to contribute to decisions like this.”

She had thumbed through the file, eyeing it wearily. There were a lot of options.

“Are we restricted by price?” she asked.

“Not necessarily,” Novem replied thoughtfully. “But I would ask that you resist choosing something purely based on how expensive it is.”

Rose raised an eyebrow, “Do not worry, I won’t.”

Novem smiled, leaning in to kiss her temple. “You are one of the few sensible women in this palace. I knew you would make a good Queen.”

Rose gave a huff of laughter at his jesting but was inwardly thrilled at his compliment.

And so, it had continued. Novem asked more and more of her adding to her responsibilities and trusting her judgement. And as she grew in confidence Rose began volunteering her own thoughts and ideas.

Soon she began attending the public audiences Novem had with his subjects in the Throne Room. She watched him as he listened to them, heard their problems and grievances, and did what he could to help. Sometimes consulting the other council members that were present and then then slowly asking Rose for her opinion.

The first day he asked her to take the session by herself she was utterly terrified. She stuttered and stammered her way through the opening address and on more than one occasion she turned helplessly to the council members for assistance. They were supportive and patient with her, but she could see their irritation at her nativity and lack of understanding as the day wore on. Things that Novem would have solved instantly she hummed and hawed over.

The turning point came late in the afternoon. A woman came before her asking for help with her farm.

“Please,” the woman pleaded, “My husband passed two years ago, and I have three bairns all under five. The farm should go to my eldest, it has been in my family for generations, but I can’t afford to keep it going and look after the children.”

Rose looked at her. The woman was thin, too thin, with untidy black hair and dark circles under her eyes, and clothes made more of patches then of its original fabric.

Her mind ticked over the problem; she could not just give the woman money. If she did then every man, woman, and child in the kingdom would be knocking on the palace door demanding their own bag of coin. She needed a practical solution, one that enabled the woman to keep her farm without seeming like a handout. Half formed thoughts weaved their way from Rose’s subconscious to her consciousness. And suddenly she smiled as one thought trickled around the edges of her mind and slowly formed a comprehensive idea.

"You know, I might just have a solution to your problem."

The woman looked up at her with hopeful eyes.

"Arfonso, please fetch that farmer from earlier this morning. The one with the farm hand and the supply issue."

"Of course, milady."

If things worked out the way she hoped she just might be able to sort out both problems. She just needed to determine how far the two farms were from each other and if a work-supply arrangement could be made.

When the farmer arrived, she spoke to both of them and relayed her idea.

While the two farms were further apart then Rose would have liked, the farmer agreed to send his stable hand to the woman’s farm for two days a week in exchange some of the produce and the woman agreed to providing some overnight accommodation for the stable hand. The two problems were remedied, the woman would have help with her farm and the farmer would have produce to shore up his low stocks.

There had only been a few more audiences after that but Rose would have happily seen a hundred more, she was that pleased with how the day had turned out.

Jack had given her the biggest grin when they finished up the session that evening, “You were wonderful, a real natural.”

Rose could hardly contain her joy at his praise. The evening had only gotten better when Novem returned to their rooms saying all the council members were singing her praises and how proud he was of her.

While Rose was gaining assurance and conviction in the Throne Room, she was also growing more confident around Novem. As their relationship developed so too did their bantering and bickering.

“Do you want me to take tomorrow morning’s court?” Rose asked one evening a few weeks after the trip to the Reservoir.

Novem kept working and gave no reply.

“Novem?” she called and repeated her question louder this time. This time the only reply was a grunt.

She sighed and moved over to his desk to stand next to him and repeated the question.

Again, he ignored her.

Rose scowled. He may be the King, but he could be so arrogant at times, particularly around his selective hearing.

“Why are you such hard work?” she bemoaned, glaring at the ceiling, and asking the Goddesses for strength and patience.

“I had a bad day,” he retorted.

“No worse than mine!”

He looked up, eyes blazing. “No, I had a very bad day. This is the time of year where I lost everything. My family, myself. And I survived since then, very nicely without some woman standing at my side nagging. So is you do not mind, be quiet,” he snapped.

Rose was indignant. Just because it was the anniversary of the plague’s height, when it took the highest number of victims, including his parents, did not give him the freedom to act like a brute.

“Listen here,” she barked. “You are not the only one who lost loved ones around this time. I too lost someone dear to me. But that loss does not give you the right to go biting my head off at every turn, especially,” her voice softened, “when I am trying to help you.”

His face was still, but his eyes were a brilliant, quite dangerous pale blue.

Then suddenly his shoulders slumped, and he looked at her askance, “I wager you never lose and argument, do you?”

“Never.”

Rose looked at the husband, though he did not look at her. He only stared past her. His eyes like skies of ice. He said, “I am sorry.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“To answer your question, yes please. I will take the day after and at the weekend I think we should finally take a visit to the poor district.”

Rose nodded, resting a hand on his shoulder.

He turned his head and kissed the back of her hand, another apology.

She gave his shoulder a squeeze before moving away and returning to her work.

~~*~~

The weekend rolled around quickly, and Rose found herself in a plain, unmarked carriage with Novem just as dawn was breaking on their way to the poor district. Alms of food and some coin in baskets across from them.

Novem had said it would be a good idea if she saw how the other half lived. While they may live in splendour there were many who did not.

“Ruling a kingdom is a delicate balance,” he had told her. “We depend on all our subjects, rich or poor, to keep us in power. We give the nobles power, and they legitimise our rule and standing. And in turn the nobility gives land and business to masses and they legitimise the hierarchy. Upset either group, and it would be the end of us.”

Novem had paused before continuing, “There will always be those who are poor and underprivileged. All we can do is try to minimise the number of those destitute while maintaining the delicate balance of the kingdom.”

Rose had appreciated what he said and recognised that the social structure that was enshrined among the courtiers was a miniature version of what played out across the kingdom on a much grander scale. And if she was to rule beside Novem as Queen she needed to be very familiar with the social hierarchy and balance in all its forms.

The sun had risen above the horizon line by the time their carriage came to a stop. From the outside Gallifrey’s poor district was not unlike Arcadia’s. Tall, dishevelled buildings cramped and pushed up against one another creating a rabbit warren of narrow dark streets.

They stepped out at the entrance to one such narrow street, Novem telling the driver to wait until they had returned. Rose's heart was thumping with trepidation as they made their way through the maze of tight stinking alleys, hampered by an assortment of laden handcarts, people and animals. It was nothing like the wider, cleaner streets of the market and residential quarters.

Novem had told her what she would see would not be pleasant, but she had not imagined anything as bad as what she now saw. It was the smell that almost overwhelmed her, it was the foul smell of poverty.

Even though she had dressed in plain clothes she still felt conspicuous, although Novem attracted the most attention despite also dressing in plain clothes.

Novem lead her down a number of winding, twisting narrow alleyways. He was a few steps ahead of her with his longer legs and quicker strides.

Rose watched him for the first while. He handed out food and coins to those who asked as they passed. From what appeared to be an empty street hungry bodies would emerge from the shadows, hands outstretched. Mainly women and children but there were plenty of men too. Some after seeing what drew the crowd turned away not willing to take the handouts.

Rose mimicked Novem’s actions. She felt strange when the whispers started, the “Thank you, milady” and “May the Goddesses bless you.” She was doing very little and yet these people were almost venerating her. It was a truly humbling experience and she understood more than before why Novem brought her here. As Queen everyone was her subject, from the lowliest peasant to the highest-ranking nobles. It would be her duty to care for all of them no matter their station.

A noise from down another narrow side street caught Rose’s attention and paused mid step tilting her to the side, listening.

“Novem,” she called after her husband, but he did not hear her.

Rose was about to call after him again when heard the voice again. It was a child’s voice.

“Mummy?” the voice called.

Rose moved into the seemingly empty lane, her eyes scanning the darkened alleyway looking for the source of the voice.

Then she felt a someone tugging at her dress from behind.

“Are you my mummy?” the voice asked.

Rose looked behind her and saw a small blond hair boy, cheeks stained with tears.

“Hello,” Rose said, crouching down to the boy. “Are you lost, sweetheart?”

“Where’s my mummy?” he asked again, lip quivering.

“I do not know,” Rose said gently, wiping a tear from him cheek.

“What is your name?”

“Jamie.”

“Well Jamie, I am Rose. Will we go look for your mother?”

The boy nodded and took Rose’s hand.

“Where do you live?” Rose asked as they exited the alley to a now deserted street. Novem and the streets inhabitants had vanished.

The boy shrugged.

Rose gave a soft sigh, “Well, why do we not try down here? If you recognise the street will you tell me?”

“Yes!” the boy answered enthusiastically, happy not to be alone anymore.

They wandered down empty street after empty street, it seemed as if the districts inhabitants had retreated inside now that the alms were gone.

~~*~~

While Rose was searching for Jamie’s mother Novem had finally noticed Rose’s absence.

‘Argh! What did I tell her this morning!’ he growled to himself. ‘I told her – do not go wandering off.’

Someday, he thought, someday someone would actually listen to him when he told them not to wander off.

He turned hoping to catch a glimpse of Rose but instead found a young woman with long dark hair staring at him.

“Excuse me, miss, but have you by any chance seen a well-dressed blonde woman?”

“There’s no one like that ‘round here.”

“I know, she was my companion and I seem to have misplaced her.”

“Like I said, no one like that lives ‘round here.”

Novem ran a hand down his face, “That is not what I meant. I-” he cut off because when he looked up the young woman had vanished.

Novem gave a heavy sigh and set off deeper into the warren of alleys in search of his wife.

~~*~~

Rose was ready to give up. Jamie did not seem to recognise anything, and she was hopelessly lost.

“Jamie,” she began but she was cut off when all of a sudden Jamie let go of her hand and ran off.

The young boy dashed towards a small derelict building squashed between two larger but equally dishevelled structures. After a moments surprise Rose followed. She trailed Jamie up what was once a garden but was now nothing more than an overgrown wilderness and in through the front door to a dark corridor with damp walls and ceiling, and a floor of beaten earth.

Jamie disappeared into a room at the end of the corridor. Rose followed and entered into a dimly lit room that was barely warm, the small fire having difficulty in maintaining any heat. Old and battered furniture was scattered throughout the room, and in the centre of it all was an old table on which the remnants of a meal on chipped and greasy plates stood. Around it was an assortment of wooden boxes to seat what appeared to be a multitude of children who stood about the room, their faces drawn and thin. They eyed the newcomer wearily.

“Who are you?” one of the older boys demanded.

“I am Rose. I found Jamie; he was lost.”

The children looked unconvinced but at that moment Jamie cried, “Mummy!” and ran out into the hallway to a young woman one age to Rose.

“There you are Jamie! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she bent down to wrap her arms around the boy.

“So, he was lost?” the older boy asked.

“Yes, Ernie, he was.” She looked up at Rose, “Thank you, milady for bringing him home.”

“It was no trouble. Sorry I do not know your name.”

“Nancy, milady.”

Rose smiled, “It was no bother Nancy. I am just glad he is safe.”

“So am I. I told him not to wander off but her never listens.”

He is not the only one, Rose thought self-deprecatingly to herself. Novem, was going to kill her for wandering off.

“Nancy, have you by any chance seen a well-dressed gentleman on your way back here?”

“Actually, I have,” Nancy began but she was cut off by a noise outside.

Nancy stepped away from Jamie and went out to see what it was, Rose close on her heels.

Both women gave a jump backwards as a large set man, a guard by his uniform, leaped out at them from the shadows.

“Found you!” he snarled, grabbing Nancy by the upper arm.

“Ow! Let go!” Nancy yelled.

“Think you’d get away with stealing food, did you?” he shook Nancy hard, sweat beading on his brow.

For a moment Rose was assailed by the memory of the attack and her skin went cold. But the frightened look in Nancy’s eyes snapped her out of it. She had to help.

“Stop it, you are hurting her,” Rose ordered.

“And who are you? They are the fanciest plain clothes I’ve seen. You one of those Ladies who comes down here and thinks you’re better than us ‘cause you live in some big fancy house and order us around. Well listen here missy, this is my town, not yours. And you have to play by my rules.”

Rose squared her shoulders, preparing for a fight, Jack had taught her how to deal with a situation like this. If that guard took one more step towards her, he would find out just how much she had learnt from Jack.

“I said, let her go.” Rose ground out.

“You’re one of those women, aren’t you? The ones who need putting in their place.”

He reached out to strike her, but Rose side stepped bringing the heel of her palm up and slamming it into his face. Her aim was off, she had been aiming for his nose but got his cheek instead. But the blow had done its job, the force of it had sent him stumbling back a few steps and he let go of Nancy.

“Why you little bitch! You’ll regret that!” He made a move towards her.

Rose prepared herself, bringing her hands up in a defensive but ready position. However, she did not need to fight.

Novem appeared from nowhere and clamped a hand on the guard’s shoulder. “No, she will not. The only one who will be regretting anything is you.”

Confusion and embarrassment coloured the guard’s face. He did not seem to fully recognise Novem, but he knew that he was important, high up the social ladder by his clothes and demeanour.

Rose’s shoulders relaxed at the sight of Novem.

“Now what seems to be the problem here?” Novem asked.

“They’re ungrateful thieves!” the guard spluttered.

“I was not asking you,” Novem snapped. The guard feel silent, something in Novem’s voice, an inherent authority, told him to do as he was told.

Nancy was staring at Novem, “How’d you find us?” she demanded.

“I have a good nose for trouble,” he said with the merest hint of smugness.

“Is that why it’s,” Nancy began before cutting off. “Never mind.”

“You would expect that he would have good hearing too, but it is rather selective,” Rose teased.

“Hey!” Novem said trying to look offended and added, “As opposed to your hearing?”

“I heard you perfectly clearly earlier. I did not wander of on purpose.”

“Hmm,” Novem looked unconvinced but the corners of his lips were twitching.

Any further teasing was cut short by Jamie who came out of the house, “Mummy?”

“I’m here Jamie, I’m here.”

“Let us go inside,” Novem ordered and everyone trooped into the sitting room Novem dragging the guard behind him.

Novem looked around the room and at all the children. “So, what is the story with all of you?” he said, addressed the group.

“What’s it to you?” one girl asked.

“You are all homeless, living rough?”

“And what’s wrong with that? You a head guard? Your clothes are nice, so you’ve got money.”

“No, I am not a guard. Should you not all be in the school?”

“We were but-”

There was an awkward pause before another of the children took over.

“But the people in charge…. It’s just better if we stay on the streets, safer. And Nancy looks out for us, gets us food, keeps us safe.”

“So that is what you do, Nancy?”

“Yes.”

“You keep them feed even if it is by unlawful means?”

Nancy nodded.

“Told you, they’re thieves!” the guard fumed, spit flying from his mouth.

“And thought I told you to shut up!”

The guard shrunk back against the wall.

“It’s the only way to keep them feed. They’d starve otherwise,” Nancy defended.

Novem was silent for a few moments, thinking.

“If I could see to it that you have a solid roof over your heads, food in your stomachs, and a sensible teacher, will you all go to school?”

The all gapped at him.

It was Nancy who broke the silence, “If you could arrange all that then yes. I’d make sure they did. But how could you possibly make that happen? Only the King could-” she stopped speaking; her eyes fixed on Novem.

Novem inclined his head in answer to her unasked question. Her eyes widened.

Rose spoke up, “If someone could be found to train Nancy, she could teach the children. If you would like that of course, Nancy?”

“Yes,” Nancy exclaimed, “I would love that.”

“Then it is settled. I will have everything arranged by the end of next week.” Novem turned to leave.

“Thank you, your Majesties,” Nancy said dropping into a curtsy, the other children scrabbling to copy her.

Novem and Rose inclined their heads and made their way out, the guard in tow now looking terrified.

Novem paused at the front door. “If you run into any more problems go to the palace guards and ask for me or Rose personally. I will let them know not to turn you away.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Nancy curtsied again, and they left.

They met a patrol on the outskirts of the district and Novem handed over the guard, Mr. Lloyd, to them.

By the pale grey colour Lloyd’s face had turned he was beginning to understand the trouble he was in.

As they watched the patrol cart off Mr. Lloyd Novem turned to Rose clasping her shoulders, “You need to be more careful. What if I had not shown up?”

Rose looked up at him, his eyes so full of concern, and tried to reassure him, “I have learnt a lot from Jack, remember? I would have been able to hold my own.”

Novem looked unconvinced. "Bravery is a not so distant cousin of folly," he remarked, but he stroked her cheek, his gentle movements at odds with his fierce expression.

Rose leaned into the caress and whispered, “You cannot protect me from everything.”

“No, but I can try.”

“You and Jack have given me the skills I need to protect myself. You need to trust me that I can look after myself now.”

“I do trust you. It is everyone else I do not trust.”

Rose gave him an affectionate but exasperated look. “Let us go home.”

Novem pressed a kiss to her forehead and they made their way back to the carriage which took them safely back to the palace.

~~*~~

Jack called on Novem later that evening once the royal couple had returned from their excursion.

He had thought a lot about what Rose had said, how the situation had in some ways mirrored his conversation with Novem about marrying Rose.

“Novem, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Jack said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“It sounds serious.”

“It is.”

Jack fell silent not knowing how to begin.

Novem watched his friend with curious eyes. There were few things that would weight so heavily on Jack, matters of the heart was one of them. Maybe he was not sure of his own heart or he was worried about Novem’s reaction. It seemed as if their roles had reversed and now it was Novem who would have to give Jack a nudge to follow his heart.

“It was not so long ago that I was in the same state as you, Jack. Although it does feel like an eon has passed since then,” Novem gave a huff of amusement. “We stood in a room much like this and you gave me some remarkable advice. You told me to take the time and decide what it was that I wanted.”

Novem left his desk and crossed the room, gripping Jack’s shoulder. “Now it is time you followed your own advice, Jack. Decide what it is you want. No matter what, or who, it is I will support you.”

Jack reached up and grasped the hand on his shoulder, trying to convey with the pressure of his grip everything that he could not say.

“Thank you, Novem.”

Novem nodded, “You know where to find me, should you need me. Or should you have some good news.”

Jack grinned before turning and leaving the room.

***


	25. Coronation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem  
> Seven = Septem  
> Master = Hlaford  
> Royal Robe = Abjecit Vestimentum  
> Anointing Robe = Unctionis Coopertum Stola

In the weeks leading up to the coronation Rose’s lessons with Mr Finch were reprised, much to Rose’s disappointment, although they were thankfully limited in number. Novem had had very similar lessons prior to his coronation.

The lessons again took place in one of the smaller rooms in the Queen’s apartments and Mr Finch was his usual supercilious self.

“As I mentioned previously,” he began with his customary air of superiority pacing up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back, “The essential elements of the Gallifreyan coronation have remained largely unchanged for the past number of centuries. A proclamation will be made from the gates of the palace and this gives the opportunity for someone to object to your becoming Queen.”

Rose looked up quickly with wide eyes.

“This procedure is a mere formality though, no one expects there to be any objections,” Mr. Finch said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“On the morning of the coronation you will visit each of the four temples and will pay homage to the Gods and Goddesses. When you arrive at the palace you will be presented to, and acclaimed by, the royal court. At the ceremony, you will be anointed by the High Priest, and you will be asked to undertake to rule according to the law, to exercise justice with mercy and to honour the four Gods and Goddesses.

“The coronation is an occasion for pageantry and celebration, but it is also a solemn ceremony where you will take an oath pledging your life to the Gods and Goddesses, the kingdom and its people. You will be entering into a lifelong commitment; your life will no longer be yours, it will be the kingdom’s. You must understand this and be willing to make all the necessary sacrifices that this will entail.”

Mr Finch continued explaining every exacting detail of the ceremony itself and the day.

When at last the final lesson came around Rose was delighted to learn that as of that lesson there would be no more classes with Mr. Finch.

“I have taught you all I know,” he said as he prepared to leave. “It is now up to you to decide whether or not you choose to remember that information and put it to good use.”

Rose stifled a sigh at his dramatics. “Thank you, Mr. Finch. I will endeavour to retain all that you have taught me.”

“Very good.” And with a quick nod he turned and left the room leaving Rose mercifully alone and free from any future lessons.

~~*~~

The coronation ceremony was steeped in even more traditions and conventions then anything thing Rose had witnessed thus far in her life. Of particular importance was the role the Gods and Goddesses would play in the coronation ceremony.

It was said that the Four had granted the land on which Gallifrey was founded on to King Unum and since then they had helped guide the kingdom. While the Four did not as such ‘choose’ the monarch it was believed that should the wrong monarch sit on the throne then the Gods and Goddesses would make it known. It was in light of this importance of the Gods and Goddesses to Gallifrey and the monarchy that they were honoured and invoked during the coronation ceremony, and the monarch pledged to protect the temples of the Four.

The coronation was to be an even more splendid and significant than the wedding, for Rose was to ascend from being merely the King’s consort to being his Queen. Rose found it hard to believe that her coronation was actually less extravagant than what Novem’s had been given the preparations.

An entire new wardrobe was being made for her just for the ceremony. This led to Rose once again finding herself being the proverbial pin cushion as dressmakers and seamstresses checked and rechecked her measurements and made an infinite about of pinning and adjustments to the material.

When she was not in fittings, she was having dance lessons, learning the steps to the coronation dance. Her dance instructor was a perfectionist and had Rose repeating the intricate steps again and again until Rose felt that she could perform the dance in her sleep. She left every lesson exhausted and with aching muscles but also with a sense of accomplishment. She was very glad she had had her training with Jack as they had at least meant some of her muscles were used to the stretches and demands of the dance routine.

Given this hectic schedule Rose’s lessons with Jack were reduced to once a week which she was a tad disappointed about but in the end, she was glad to have one less thing to worry about.

Rose been so caught up with all that had been going on, with all the coronation preparation that she had not thought of Decem that much since she had gotten back from Dårlig Ulv-Stranden.

When she finally did think of him, she felt somewhat guilty that she had all but forgotten him. However, then she began to feel disquiet over feeling guilty. She was married to Novem and her coronation to become his Queen was fast approaching but she was still pinning after Decem.

She had grown to care, very much so, for Novem but she had to admit to herself that her heart was still Decem’s.

When she thought of Decem it made her heart skip a beat and her stomach churned with excitement. She felt giddy like a child. With Novem it was completely different; it was a slow and steady spread of warmth that made her feel content and uncertain at the same time. She was happy to see Novem, but she was not excited to see him like she was with Decem.

It seemed Decem had not forgotten her either.

Rose’s heart filled with equal measures of joy and sorrow when she came back to her Apartments one evening to find a large bouquet of Applegrass flowers waiting for her. She continued to receive a bouquet once a week up until the proclamation. With each successive bouquet she felt the same rush of happiness that he still thought of her, but this delight soon turned to self-reproach when she thought about her marriage to Novem and the approaching coronation.

~~*~~

A week before the coronation ceremony the people of the city, and by extension the kingdom, were formally notified of Rose’s accession and intent to be crowned. This notification gave those who might challenge the legitimacy or rights of the monarch a chance to be heard.

A herald stood at the palace gates and made the proclamation: "If any person, of any standing, high or low, shall deny or oppose our chosen Sovereign Lady Rose, future Queen of Gallifrey, Champion of Time, of Death, of Life and of Pain, Mother-to-be of the next heir unto our Sovereign Lord, King Novem; speak."

Once the proclamation was read a herald remained standing by the gates at all times awaiting any objections until the day of the ceremony.

Although, as Mr Finch had said this was only a mere formality and no one expected any trouble, Rose still felt queasy when she watched the herald walk out towards the gates.

The last time there had been a challenge was when Novem’s grandfather, King Septem, took the throne. His brother, Prince Hlaford, Decem’s and Saxon’s grandfather, opposed his brother’s ascension and claimed that he was the rightful King. It almost led to civil war but the council and a majority of the prominent Gallifreyan families agreed that it was Septem who should rule and so war was only just avoided.

Rose had not long to dwell on past objections as her mother arrived that day. Jackie, as always, was an unstoppable force of nature and at once began integrating herself into the coronation preparations and attempting to alter things to suit her tastes.

This was much to Novem’s exasperation and Rose’s amusement and slight embarrassment. Rose tried to explain to Novem that her mother meant well but that she did not realise how forceful she was actually being. With a moderate amount of grumbling Novem refrained from ordering Jackie to stay away from all the preparations and settled with stern warning which Jackie promptly ignored.

~~*~~

Amidst all the hustle and bustle of the preparations the days passed, and the morning of the coronation arrived with unnerving speed.

At dawn Raffalo and a small army of maids arrived to get Rose ready. For the most part Jackie let the maids do their work but every now and again she would pipe up and redirect their efforts.

Martha, Clara, and Sally arrived halfway through the preparations.

After much fussing and fixing everyone finally stood back and with a satisfied smile Raffalo proclaimed, “There, you are ready.”

Rose turned slowly to look at herself in the mirror, her stomach churning with anticipation. She did not recognise the creature staring back at her. Never had she dreamed she could look like this.

Her coronation dress was one that Novem had commissioned specifically for her and it was stunning; although given the fact that it only had small gauze cap sleeves it was rather risqué. It was a navy-blue satin and tulle mix with a sweep train and embellished with beads of white jade, ice flake quartz and rainbow white moonstone, and many diamonds. The uniqueness of the dress was in the arrangement and pattern of the beads on the dress which faded in an ombrè style. The bodice and skirt around her hips had the most concentration but the lower down the skirt the more scattered out they became until they were sparse at the bottom of the dress.

The dress reminded Rose of a starry night sky or the roof of the reservoir and the beads and gems reflected the candlelight so beautifully. On the lower part of the skirt Rose swore she could make out constellations in the pattern of the beads.

Her hair was in a similar style to her wedding, held up with delicate diamond pins, however, she wore no tiara this time. Around her wrists and hands wrapped two delicate diamond and sapphire hand bracelets, while her ears were adorned with intricate and delicate diamond earrings and the Keystone necklace Novem had gifted her rested just above her chest.

With Jackie threatening tears of joy and about to set everyone off, Raffalo chivvied Rose and Jackie out the door as Rose’s friends wished her luck.

Mother and daughter were escorted by the guards, led by Gwen, down the empty corridors to the awaiting carriage which would take Rose to each of the Temples to receive a blessing from each God and Goddess.

Before leaving the palace, Rose put on the _Unctionis Coopertum Stola_ or Anointing Robe. The Anointing Robe symbolised her transition from courtier to monarch. It covered her coronation gown completely and was a simple white robe; its only decoration was the embroidered emblems of the Gods and Goddesses around the hem in gold thread. While she wore this robe she was neither courtier to monarch; she was something outside all of that.

Although it was very early in the morning there were already many people gathered in the streets to see the carriage and try to catch a glimpse of Rose.

A large party of guards on horseback escorted them, and the carriage windows were heavily draped and blocked any view within. Inside the carriage Gwen smiled at Jackie’s continued fussing. In order to distract both mother and daughter, Gwen talked about the rumours that beneath each temple there were a number of infamous catacombs full of holy relics. Rose was enthralled but Jackie appeared not to have heard and continued to try and rearrange either Rose’s dress or her hair.

The nagging soon came to an end when they reached the first temple, the north facing Temple of Time. 

With a queasy feeling in her stomach Rose descended from the carriage into the cleared and well-guarded street. She approached the building alone.

The exterior is made from stark white marble and the temple was deserted save for the High Priest himself. A scattered orange light was spilling through the pillared alley, which made an eerie contrast with the white glow that seemed to emanate from the bronze sculpture of Time on the central altar. The fragrance of incense hung heavy in the air and the sound of chimes could be heard in the distance.

The High priest was a tall, straight backed man with a military air about him, despite never actually serving in the army. Rose had heard that he ran a tight ship and expected his congregation to be strictly disciplined.

Rose walked with slow cautious steps to the centre of the temple and stood in front of the altar. After bowing to each other the High Priest stood on the steps above her and placed burning incense at her feet, the smoke blowing gently around Rose accompanied by the distant sound of wind chimes. He then made a blessing, “God of Time, master of all that is and all that was, grant your blessing upon this woman, that she may be Queen.”

Rose repeated the blessing, “God of Time, master of all that is and all that was, grant your blessing upon me, that I may be Queen.” Once done they bowed to each other and Rose turned to leave the temple as the High Priest placed the incense on the altar and turned to make his own way to the castle.

The southern Temple of Death was next. The exterior of this building was in a classical style, all columns and arches. Inside, Rose glimpsed colourful frescoes of stories pertaining to Death himself lining the walls, but an elevated pool of water was the main feature.

The Priest of Death was a gruff man, hardened by dealing with so much of the world’s mortality, as well as the minions of ill will.

As before there was a symbolic offering and the Priest carried a bowl of water forward and placed it at Rose’s feet. This blessing mirrored the first: “God of Death, master of all that has left and will leave this world, grant your blessing upon this woman, that she would be Queen.” And, as before, Rose repeated it before leaving.

The party travelled onwards to the west facing Temple of Life which was decorated with gleaming plates of precious metal on the outside and within the walls are lined with alcoves, each with a statue and small altar, with a sacred tree growing out of the floor as the main focal point

The Priestess of Life was a philosopher as well as a priestess; she focused on the reasoned science of the Gods and Goddesses. She could be somewhat aloof and her sermons often times went over the heads of most of her congregation.

The Priestess stood before Rose with a sapling from the sacred tree. “Goddess of Life, mistress of all that has entered and grows in this world, grant your blessing upon this woman, that she would be Queen.”

Rose repeated the blessing and left the temple for the final stop at the easterly Temple of Pain

This Temple’s imposing external walls were decorated with statues of holy figures, while inside to one side there was a wall of votive candles and to the other there were many ancient relics.

The Priestess of Pain was a gifted healer but also a very strict woman. She was a fair and considerate person and while she hated those who went against the Gods and Goddesses, she hated unjust punishment even more.

The Priestess placed a burning candle at Rose’s feet and began the final blessing. “Goddess of Pain, mistress of all wounds and wisdom, grant your blessing upon this woman, that she would be Queen.”

Rose repeated the final blessing and made her way out of the Temple.

With the last blessing complete the carriage and all its occupants made their way back up the winding road towards the palace.

The journey back gave Rose a brief chance to try and calm herself, she closed her eyes and put her head back as the carriage trundled up the now packed streets. With each visit to the temples Rose’s anxiety had grown in tandem with the dawning realisation of what this day meant and all the changes she now faced.

All too soon they arrived at the castle and Rose was quickly ushered into the antechamber next to the Great Hall.

Novem was already there waiting for her and Rose’s breath caught at the sight of him. He looked the very picture of dark, masculine elegance, from the spotless linen to the black coat that moulded ornately to his athletic build.

Novem turned to her a look of pride on his face but also there was also a heated glint in his eye which caused its own dark heat spiralling inside her. Rose averted her eyes with a blush and walked towards him with unsteady steps.

This is it, she thought, this is where I become Queen.

When she reached him Novem he took both her hands in his and lifted them up to kiss the back of each of them.

“Ready?” Novem asked.

Taking a deep breath Rose nodded, “Yes.”

Novem nodded to the High Priest, whom Rose had not noticed entering the room, and everyone moved into place. After a final few moments of reprieve the party stepped forward towards the doors.

As Rose entered the Great Hall, escorted by the High Priest and Novem on either side of her and the other Priest and Priestesses behind, the choir began to sing.

She proceeded down the aisle forgetting for a moment where and who she was as she gazed around in awe. The hall was decorated with light and flowing material draped from every surface, glass sculptures and decorations stood and hung along the walls twinkling from the autumn sunlight which shone down through the many windows. The combination created an ethereal, otherworldly atmosphere and Rose felt as if she had stepped through a portal into some sort of mystical realm.

Tearing her eyes from the beautiful decorations Rose looked at the guests as she walked to the dais where two thrones stood, one for Novem, the other soon to be hers.

Guests wore formal court dress. The Lords were dressed in formal suits and single-shoulder draped capes with their family crest embroidered on it, while the Ladies wore long evening gowns with long trains embroidered with their family crest. Rank was shown by the number of intricately embroidered border rows along the edges of the capes and trains. Dukes and duchesses had five rows, marquesses and marchionesses had four, earls and countesses had three, viscounts and viscountesses had two, and barons and baronesses had one. Soldiers wore a specific formal military uniform and rather than a family crest they had the kingdom’s crest, a galaxy swirl beneath a moon and three stars in the centre of the shield with a crown above a sun on top, and the symbol of their military rank underneath it.

When they arrived at the dais Novem left her side and stood in front of his throne and Rose took a few steps to her place in front the other throne.

The High Priest stood behind her and the other Priest and Priestesses took their places at the east, south, and west sides of the dais.

The ceremony opened with the Recognition of the Sovereign. The High Priest began with the words: “Lords and Ladies of the court, with the blessing of the God of Time I here present unto you Lady Rosabel Tyler, your undoubted Queen. All you who have come here on this day to pledge your allegiance and service to her as your undoubted Queen, are you willing to do so?”

The crowd answered, “We are.”

This acclimation was repeated another three times as each of the Priest and Priestesses posed the question to the court.

Next it was Rose’s turn as the High Priest administered the Sovereign oath "Do you Lady Rosabel Tyler, to be crowned Queen, promise and swear to govern the people of this Kingdom of Gallifrey according to the Laws and Customs of this land".

“I do,” Rose answered.

Novem stood forward with a ceremonial dagger in his hands. He approached Rose and made a small cut at the tip of her finger, causing Rose to wince. He gave her an apologetic look as the drops of blood were collected on the dagger and left drip carefully onto the stem of an incense stick, into a chalice of water, onto the green leaves of a sapling and into the hot wax of a candle; each of which had been blessed by all four of the Priests and Priestesses.

Combining the ash from the incense, the water, strips of a leaf from the sapling, and a few droplets of wax the High Priest made a gesture of offering with the mixture over a small bowl of oil before anointing Rose on the hands, head, and heart with the oil. He then concluded by reciting a blessing invoking the Four.

After this the Anointing Robe as removed, and the Royal Robe or _Abjecit Vestimentum_ was placed on her.

The Royal Robe was a far more decadent garment; it was made of crimson velvet symbolizing the blood which the new monarch would be willing to spill in defence of the kingdom, with red silk lining and silver lace. It had a long train that was delicately embroidered in gold with the kingdom’s crest and the emblems of the Gods and Goddesses. A large version of each of these symbols decorated the top of the back of the robe with the kingdom’s crest in the centre and other four symbols and each of the four compass points. It had wide-flowing sleeves, set with jewels and gold fringing.

It was surprisingly heavy, and it took Rose a few seconds to readjust and straighten up again. When she did, she found her heart had begun pounding in her chest and she tried not to look too closely at the crowd in front of her. At this point she was acutely feeling the pressure of not making a mistake in front of the entire court and more besides. If she made eye contact with someone, friend or foe, it might become too much, and she feared that she might lose the ability to function or speak properly.

The presentation of the Royal Regalia was next, and the High Priest offered Rose the Orb of the God of Time. It was a hollow golden sphere set with numerous precious and semi-precious stones, and was a symbol of authority, of the kingdom under the monarchy, the Gods and Goddesses. The next Priest presented the Sword of the God of Death, a large sword with a jewel encrusted handle, which represented power and justice as an instrument which is used in defence of the kingdom and to inflict various forms of punishment. Next, the Priestess delivered the Ring of the Goddess of Life, which signify the monarch’s ‘marriage’ to the kingdom, as well as a fruitful marriage and the continuation of the monarchy. The final Priestess gifted Rose with the Sceptre of the Goddess of Pain, the embodiment of royal power to judge and to discipline, of royal authority and sovereignty.

Rose stood with the sword hanging from her waist, the orb in her right hand, the sceptre in her left hand, and the ring on her right hand.

The conclusion of the ceremony began when Novem crowned Rose as his Queen. The crown symbolized royal authority, but also the identification of the monarch as endorsed by the Gods or Goddesses. It was made of both yellow and white gold which had been twisted into intricate shapes and inlayed with numerous precious stones.

All four of the Priest and Priestesses blessed the crown with the same oil with which she had been anointed with earlier before handing it to Novem.

Novem stood before her with the crown clasped in his hands. He looked down at her with the same heated gaze as before.

Rose held the regalia items and tried to still her shaking hands while Novem placed the crown on her head and the crowd behind him chorused, "Gods, Goddesses save the Queen."

As Rose felt the weight of the metal crown come to rest on her head her eyes flickered closed, and the enormity of the situation became clear. I am Queen, she thought. Rose’s eyes fluttered open and her gaze quickly locked with Novem’s. He held her gaze as he stepped back and only broke it when he moved to sit on his throne.

Rose then sat on her throne and the High Priest standing before her administered the Coronation Oath, first asking,

“My Lady, are you willing to take the Oath?”

Rose answered, “I am willing.”

The High Priest then proceeded to ask her, “Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Gallifrey according to their respective laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise so to do.”

“Will you to your power ensure law and order; dispense justice and mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?”

“I will.”

“Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws and preserve the doctrine and worship of the Gods and Goddesses? And will you preserve unto the High Priests and Priestesses, and to their temples, all such rights as by law?”

“All this I promise to do.”

The High Priest stepped aside, and it was then time for Rose to make the Solemn Oath before Novem the High Priest, and all the court. Rose arose from her throne and the Royal Robe was then removed. Rose spoke, “The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep. So help me, Gods and Goddesses.”

Rose turned to Novem and knelt before him, showing deference to him first and foremost. Novem then bowed to her showing her importance and stance as Queen.

Next the High Priest paid homage and swore his fealty, saying "I, Priest of Time and High Priest of the four temples of Time, Death, Life and Pain, will be faithful and true, unto you, our Sovereign Lady, Queen of this Realm and chosen by the Four, and unto your heirs and successors. So help me, God of Time." The other Priest and Priestesses followed, each invoking their own deity.

The King’s council then proceeded to pay their homage, saying "I do become your liege; and faithful and true will I bear unto you, to live and die against all. So help me, Gods/Goddesses."

The heads of each of the main families paid homage together as a group, this was done to ensure that each of the powerful families knew where their loyalty should lie and to deter them from seeking the throne for themselves. The remainder of the courtiers were led by the most senior peer in order of their ranks – Dukes and Duchesses down to Barons and Baronesses.

The feeling of power Rose experienced from seeing and hearing all those people swearing fealty to her was intoxicating, the rush of authority was overwhelming.

With the acclimation complete Novem took Rose’s arm and led her out of the Great Hall to chants of, “Gods/Goddesses save the Queen,” and out to the palace wall where, much like with their wedding, he presented her to the city.

The crowd for her wedding was small compare to now. The warm autumn sun bathed the seemingly never-ending crowd in light. It seemed as if the entire city and more besides had come to catch a glimpse of their new Queen. Whoops and cheers greeted Rose and Novem, they smiled and waved and with a rueful grin Novem turned to Rose and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips much to the crowd’s delight.

Before they left Novem addressed the crowd, “To celebrate this joyous and momentous day and to show my gratitude for your continued loyalty and service, I gift to you some of Gallifrey’s finest ale and delicacies.”

At Novem’s words several carts were wheeled out through the gates, weighted down with barrels of ale and many crates of enticing foods. The crowd erupted into boisterous applause at the sight of the carts and with a final wave Novem and Rose retreated to the palace and left the crowds to their festivities.

The coronation was traditionally followed by a banquet and given the fine autumn weather the meal was held outside in the gardens.

Novem and Rose sat on opulent high-backed chairs in the centre of the long, richly decorated, high table. Before them sat the guests in groups of ten around the many smaller tables that stretched out across the lawn, each with its own marquee to shield the guests from the sun’s rays.

The meal was a raucous affair, there were many toasts to Rose as the new Queen, several to Novem and a number to both of them as a couple, and even a few bawdy toasts about how swiftly there would be fine and handsome heirs. The latter caused not only Rose to blush but many of the court ladies too. The offending parties who were all well into their cups, were quickly chivvied away by the stewards to sober up somewhere more quiet.

Rose found it difficult to eat much for the excitement and apprehension of the day made her feel a little queasy. Nevertheless, she managed to eat a small amount from each course, and it was sufficient to stop Novem from fussing over her. Although she did receive many concerned glances and a fair few, “Are you sure you are alright?”

Afternoon turned to evening and soon it was time to return to the Great Hall for the final part of the day, the ball.

One by one the courtiers made their way back inside each bowing and congratulating Rose as they passed.

Rose was delighted to see that Bev, Sarah and Stuart, and many acquaintances from Arcadia had made the trip. When her mother and each of her friends as they passed Rose broke all protocol and hugged them. Novem did not seem to mind.

Near the end of the procession of courtiers Princess Jabe appeared. Rose felt her self-confidence waver at the sight of the Princess of Cheem, but Jabe was as agreeable and affable as ever when she congratulated the new Queen and Rose found her sentiments changing. She was now Queen of Gallifrey and Jabe was a warm and cordial person, she could be a friend and ally to Rose, not someone she should view as a threat.

“Thank you, Jabe. Both Novem and I would be honoured to host you any time. Please consider Tardis palace your home from home.”

“Thank you, your Highness. Gallifrey, and Novem, are lucky to have you as Queen,” Jabe replied with a smile before moving on.

More courtiers passed and congratulated Rose until at last it was only Rose and Novem who remained in the gardens.

“Ready, my Queen?” Novem asked and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Rose’s body hummed with delight at hearing those words, ‘My Queen.’ She offered him her arm, “Yes, my King.”

The pair proceeded inside and quickly arrived at the tall ornate doors of the Great Hall. The two guards on duty bowed to them, “Your Majesty, your Highness,” and opened the great wooden doors.

The Great Hall which had now been transformed into a ballroom and Rose stood on the brink, transfixed by the beauty of it all. The servants had truly outdone themselves. While earlier it had been an ethereal realm, now she had arrived in a verdant paradise. Lush potted plants lined the walls, dance floor and adorned every flat surface while garlands of fresh blooms draped the walls and weaved gracefully up the pillars. Hundreds of glittering candles shone in the stunning chandeliers. They cast their glow over a vast number of people who were already present. Even the air seemed to flow with the swell of the music and in time with the drift of the ladies’ gowns and gentlemen’s steps as they moved about the room.

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Novem’s tone was soft.

“Unbelievably so,” Rose met his gaze and tried to convey all the warmth and gratitude in her heart.

“Shall we?” Novem smiled and took her arm leading her up onto the dais.

Jack was waiting for them with his customary dashing smile. Rose and Novem turned to face the crowd and with a signal from Jack the music ceased, and every eye turned to the pair.

“Lords and Ladies of the court, I present to you your King and Queen,” Jack’s voice boomed loud in the quiet of the hall.

There was a round of applause and Novem led Rose out to the centre of the dance floor. He nodded to the musicians and they struck up a rhythmic yet haunting melody with a flourish and the royal couple opened the dancing. The music began with a slow and steady beat and they moved slowly with it, spinning, and twirling around the dance floor in companionable silence.

They were a sight to behold. The Queen, sparkling and shimmering like the myriad stars in the night sky as the light of the candles danced and refracted off the thousands gems and beads on her dress. She contrasted greatly with the King who, in his dark jacket and pants, looked tall and foreboding like the ominous dark clouds of an approaching thunderstorm. As the pair moved around the floor in time with the swell of the music, they created a tableau with their movements, the King an oncoming storm, and the Queen the guiding light of the starry night sky.

The tempo of the music began to quicken, the beat of the drums grew louder, and the steps of the dance changed too. Rose and Novem entwined their arms and moved around each other in time with the drums. They pulled closer together as Novem placed his hands on Rose's waist and lifted her up into the air, still turning and down again. With her feet on the ground again Rose and Novem broke apart moving away in an arching sweep before once again coming together and locking arms.

When the beat of the drums grew louder and faster still the couple’s movements quickened, their eyes locked in a heated gaze. As the music reached its crescendo Novem swept Rose up into his arms all the while still spinning. The music eventually trailed off and Novem gently set Rose down.

For the first set they danced in solitary, happy splendour, but then as the second began there was a flurry of movement as courtiers paired off and joined them and soon the floor was filled with dancing couples.

“You look stunning, my Queen,” Novem said with a smile, sweeping her across the room in a swirling rhythm that dazzled her and made the other couple seem clumsy in comparison.

“You look rather fetching yourself, my King,” Rose replied with her own warm smile.

“We must make a handsome couple then; do you not think?”

Rose laughed, “Indeed we must.”

One only had to look at them to see that they were in accord. In fact, it gave rise to considerable amusement when the courtiers beheld the formerly aloof, austere King smiling affectionately at his Queen as he whirled her around the room.

However, one courtier, leaning against the wall in the shadows of the darkest part of the Hall, was decidedly not impressed by the royal couple’s harmony.

***


	26. Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone! Here's hoping 2021 brings better things than 2020. :)
> 
> So only three chapters left! This chapter and the next deal with Part 1 of Lilyandtherose's youtube series - [Nine Vs Ten | | Power And Control [AU]](https://youtu.be/5PDZZFZ4_cQ), and then it's the epilogue.   
> I've taken all the dialogue from the video and marked it with an *, and I've also added and changed a few things from the video just to make it fit in with the story. :)
> 
> Chapter Notes:  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

Following the coronation celebrations, the royal couple retired for the night, or rather what was left of the night as it was in the early hours of the following morning. They were now officially King and Queen, not just husband and wife.

There was much shouting and hollering as they left the Great Hall, some clapped, others banged their fists on the tables, and there was a chorus of whistling too. Above all that noise Rose could just make out calls of “Long live the Queen” and “Long live the King.”

The noise followed them up through the palace as they met many other courtiers celebrating on their way back to the royal apartments.

With every step Rose felt the exhilaration of the day fading and a gnawing anxiety growing within her. She and Novem had grown very close over the last few months but this was the night they were supposed to be together. It was what was meant to happen, what the court expected. But what the court did not know was that their King and Queen would not lay with each other that night, not while their agreement was still in place. Now that the time had come, Rose hoped that Novem would stay true to his word and give her time.

Exhaustion quickly claimed Rose once she entered Novem’s chambers. It was late, or was it early? She could not tell.

Novem seemed unperturbed though and went to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. Rose stood idly by the settee not sure of what to do or where to go.

In truth Novem was anything but unperturbed. The thrill of the day, of finally being able to call Rose his Queen, was fading fast. She was his wife and Queen, and he should be able to take her in his arms, even if they did not lay together that night, he wished to wake up next to her. But he could not, because of Decem. Really, he could not blame Rose, Decem had turned her head, it was a talent of his. But she would be his in the end. Of that he was certain. He just needed to be patient. He took a few sips of the amber liquid before turning around.

He gave Rose an apologetic look at her palpable nervousness. “You may retire for the night if that is what you wish.

Stifling a yawn Rose said, “I think that would be best. I do not feel entirely well, it has been a long day.”

Novem nodded and turned his back on Rose.

Upon entering her rooms Rose slumped onto the bed and attempted to remove her dress with little success.

With a huff of frustration, she gave up and thought she might as well sleep in the dress. Raffalo would be in first thing in the morning and she could help take it off before any of the other servants arrived.

“Shall I call Raffalo to help you out of your gown?” Novem asked having appeared suddenly at her bedroom door.

“The gown itself is fine. It is the corset, the lacing, that is an issue.”

“Then I shall help you,” he said, pushing off the door frame and walking towards her.

She hesitated but did not say anything.

Rose moved from the centre of the bed to the edge where Novem could reach her, turning her back to him.

She could feel his touch, undoing the hooks of the bodice and pushing it open wide until it drooped down her shoulders. She tensed.

“You need not worry. I am a man of my word. You asked for time and you will have it.”

He placed his hand on her shoulders and squeezed the muscles there in his large palms before sliding slowly over her upper back and down the length of the corset to the knot at the bottom. He leaned forward slightly as he worked the knot free.

She could feel it loosen and tried to assure him that she could manage the rest herself, but no breath would come to form the words. She could feel the warmth of his hands through the fabric of her chemise, working their way up her body until the corset was completely open.

There was a pause that seemed like forever as his hands rested on her body, only the thin cotton between his touch and her skin. And then he moved.

“Can you manage the rest?” His voice was maddeningly clear and untroubled.

She swallowed. “I think so. Yes.”

Novem left without so much as a by your leave. At least he was true to his word and he left her alone for their first night as King and Queen.

~~*~~

“Wake up Rose.”*

Rose was not sure what woke her, but when she opened her eyes it was to see her husband and King leaning on the bedpost, gazing down at her with a pensive frown.

“How are you?” he asked, running one finger along the bevelled edge of the footboard. “Better I trust, after the night’s rest?”

His question was blunt but in all honesty that was one of the things she had liked so much about him, that slightly gruff yet truthful manner which made him stand out from the other men of the court. Other than him being the King, of course. She could easily imagine the stories she had heard of him leading the Gallifreyan army, of him barking out orders to an army of battle-hardened soldiers and them obeying him without question. And despite all of that he had shown her extraordinary gentleness and kindness.

She smiled at him sleepily, “Yes, but I am sure I will feel even better when I am properly awake.” She yawned, raising her arms above her head and stretched.

He watched her sinuous movements with a dark, hungry look.

She stilled, pierced by the force of desire she read in his gaze. "I have every intention of fulfilling my promise, but I asked you for time and you granted my request."

"I did and be assured that you have nothing to fear from me. I accept the way things are between us, but you cannot blame me for hoping for a change of heart. I am only a man and you are a beautiful woman. And if nothing else I need an heir; the kingdom requires one."

“I know,” Rose muttered.

With nothing left to say Novem left her to the ensemble of maids that awaited just outside the room.

With Novem apparently busy all day Rose was left to her own devices. Unfortunately, she was not sure what to do. Almost everyone, including herself, had assumed that she would be spending the day with Novem. There had even been some lewd jokes the previous evening from courtiers saying they doubt they would see the pair for a couple of days. But her husband busied himself with work.

She did not blame him. He knew the reason she had asked for more time and she supposed Novem had hoped that as they had grown closer that she would change her mind. But she had not. For as much as she was growing to care for Novem, Decem still occupied a large part of her heart.

At a loss for what to do Rose simply wandered aimlessly around the palace. This may or may not have been a good idea. As it was her first outing around the palace as Queen she was stopped frequently by courtiers, at least those who were not nursing sore heads from the night before, to congratulate her on her coronation.

Rose rounded the corner and almost bumped into yet another courtier walking in the opposite direction.

Warm hands came to rest on her shoulders, steadying her. Rose looked up sharply, shocked by the closeness and familiarity of the figure only to find herself looking up into the warm brown eyes of Decem.

“Careful now,” he said with a sly smile.

Rose steadied herself and tried to take a step back but Decem’s grip held fast.

“So,” he dragged out the word with a suggestive tone. “May I ask, how was your first night as Queen?”*

“Stop it....”* Rose blushed avoiding his gaze. She managed to extract herself from his grasp and said, “You should not say things like that.”

“Why not?” he teased, kissing her hand.

“Someone might hear.”

“And if they do? The only way they are going to know that all is not as it should be between the King and his Queen is from the flush of your innocent cheeks.”

“Decem!”

“Am I wrong?”

Rose only coloured more which exasperated her further. She refused to give him a direct answer and turned to leave. He reached out to grab her arm to stop her but she side stepped him playfully, “I have things to do. I am the Queen after all.”

Decem let her go with a teasing, “If you say so.”

She stopped by the main salon for some food from the buffet and was caught by more courtiers, none of them had paid her much attention before but now that she was Queen, they were all compliments and civility itself. Rose looked around the room in the hope of seeing a friendly face, but there was none. While she had not expected to see any of her friends, she was still somewhat disheartened by their absence. She had left them still partying the night before and suspected they had continued until dawn. They were unlikely to rise until the late afternoon and even they probably would not venture outside of their rooms.

Finding no peace in the salon Rose moved on. She wandered out into the gardens, a cool autumn breeze rustling through the leaves, for a time before making her way back inside.

She was on her way back to her rooms when she bumped into Decem again.

He bowed dramatically, “Highness.”

“My Lord Decem,” Rose smiled holding out her hand for him to kiss. He had an allure and roguishness about him that could bring a smile to any woman’s face.

Decem took her hand and kissed the back of it several times, glancing up at her with sultry eyes.

Where Novem was reserved, showing affection only occasionally and in private, Decem was charm and seduction itself.

“Decem,” Rose laughed, trying to pull her hand away. “Stop it. What if someone sees?”

“I do not care. Let them see.” Decem reached out to caress her cheek.

Rose leaned into the caress for a moment before stepping back. “Stop.”

Decem turned from Rose. “Why do you play these games with me?”* he asked softly but with an edge of frustration.

Rose came up behind him and he turned back to her, a look of anger and pain in his eyes. She placed a hand on his chest, “Does it need saying?”* she whispered.

Without warning Novem appeared behind them. He gave a small cough to announce his presence.

Rose quickly scrabbled away from Decem, but Novem only spared her a cursory glance for his sole focus was Decem.

Novem’s voice was quiet but his words carried a deadly threat, “Listen carefully Decem. From this moment forward you will leave Rose alone. You will not speak to her. You will not look at her. You will not even think of her. Do I make myself clear?”

“You think you can stop us?” Decem taunted.

“You will leave her alone. Do I make myself clear?” Novem’s voice was louder this time, anger beginning to take over.

Decem scoffed. “You will never have her heart.”* he jeered, his voice rising to a near shout, not caring who might hear.

Novem knew he could not refute those words, that Rose cared more for his cousin then for him. But he was having none of it, so he tried a different tact, a different threat. “But I can have your head for this!”*

Rose who had been watching the altercation from the side-lines found her heart breaking, torn in half between both men. At Novem’s words she felt as if she had been slapped, that he would threaten Decem in such a way. Shocked and upset, Rose ducked her head and fled from the room.

Once he heard Rose’s retreating footsteps Novem called to the pair of guards who stood waiting down the corridor and they advanced on Decem.

Once he was sure of Decem’s capture and that he would not escape from the confinement in his rooms Novem went in search of Rose.

He found her in their quarters, pacing like a caged animal.

She turned on him the moment she heard the click of the door shut. “Spare his life, I order you!”*

“You make me look a fool, when I give you everything,”* Novem barely kept himself from shouting.

Rose felt the sting of the rebuke. Her anger evaporating as quickly as it had risen. Chastened she begged, “Please.”*

However, Novem was in no mood to plicate her, particularly not for that man. “So he can have my wife, when I have not!”* his tone scornful.

Novem pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. He took a few moments to let the anger ebb.

He approached Rose with slow and measured steps. Stopping before her and slowly reach out a hand to cup her face. “You know what I want from you.” He paused as if deliberating whether or not to say the next few words. “His life might be spared.”*

Rose knew what he was implying, and in that moment she hated him for doing so, and yet some part of her understood why he was doing it. A King could not have a Queen who loved another, no matter how much she wanted it to be so. Maybe in time when there was an heir or two, maybe then she could discreetly take a lover. But not now.

She may have had more time to get used to life without Decem but his, and her, actions today meant that that could not be. She would have to cut Decem from her life now and forever, like a doctor amputating a gangrenous limb.

Rose gave the smallest of nods to show her agreement.

Novem looked down at her with a sternness that made her uncomfortable, and she found she could not bear to remain in the room with him.

She fled the apartment and Novem did not try and stop her.

~~*~~

Rose did not see Decem for another two days, until he was realised from the confines of his rooms.

He had been sitting, waiting for her, in one of the balconies off the main corridor when she walked past on her way down from her apartments. The corridor was thankfully empty when he caught up with her, grabbing her arm and pulling her flush against him.

“So when are you running away with me?”* he teased.

Rose stepped back out of his embrace. “How dare you talk to the Queen in that way.” Her tone was not sharp, but her words carried a piercing sting all the same.

Decem stared at her, taken aback by her sudden change in attitude and the harsh rebuttal.

Rose continued, balling her hands into fists determined to get this over quickly, “Who would want a man like you, compared to a King?*

“I think she has made herself clear,”* Novem said as he appeared from the shadows, an air of smug triumph surrounding him.

He had followed Rose since she left their rooms that morning knowing that she would undoubtedly meet up with Decem sometime that day.

Decem looked between Rose and Novem and struggled to remain composed. Realising his defeat, he shrugged his shoulders and retreated down the corridor not willing to clash with Novem again like two days prior.

Her part played; Rose returned to her chambers, no longer interested in what the wider palace had to offer. She needed to hide for a while.

Novem watched her leave without following. He knew that would not be the last of Decem. His cousin had suffered a blow, but he would not let Rose go so easily. No, a more permanent solution was needed to deal with Decem and his fixation.

Novem sought out Jack, “See our friend is well looked after.”*

“Yes, your Majesty,”* Jack answered unquestioningly and went straight to work.

It was only then that Novem went to Rose. He found her in her chambers sitting in a chair by the window, an open but unread book in her lap.

“You have done well,” he told her. “He will get his reward.”*

Rose looked up sharply at the second statement. “What does that mean?”* she demanded, but Novem ignored her and stayed silence.

She was about to ask again but Novem had already left. She was on her own again. Alone with her thoughts.

The feeling of being torn in two blossomed once more within her. In frustration she threw her book across the room with a yell and watched it crash into the back of the settee and land on the ground with a heavy thump. She slumped back into the chair covering her face with her hands. She thought back to before her coronation, how happy she had been then, how straightforward things had been then. Now, only days later, everything seemed so muddled and complicated.

Time became meaningless to Rose as she sat there, staring out the window yet unseeing, so lost in her tumultuous feelings. When she could no longer bare the solitude and her ever increasingly morose thoughts, she left the apartments. Her feet made their own path and she ended up wandering around the palace.

The courtiers appeared particularly rowdy that evening, there was still an air of celebration even several days after the coronation. Rose stumbled across more than one amorous and cavorting couple. Seeing such joy and wanton need was almost enough to bring her out of her melancholy mood. She hated what she had done to Decem that morning. But had she a choice? She did it to save him and she needed to let him know. To tell him that she still cared for him and that she had done it for him and only him.

As if her thoughts of the man had brought him to life, she spotted Decem down a dimly lit corridor. He was not alone though. He sported a woman on either arm and from his overt gestures and manner he appeared to be drunkenly flirting with them. From their garb the two women appeared to be working women which would account for the presence of two of them and their disregards for Decem’s inebriated state. Money was money after all, whether a client was drunk or sober.

Rose watched in dismay as the flirting became evermore extravagant. How could he? She had only this morning tried to save his life. Yes, it appeared to him that she had rejected him but surely, surely, he would not move on so quickly. She had not lain with Novem despite their being married, and all for Decem. Why would he do this?

Flirting became kissing and Rose swore she had never seen so much tongue being used before and it did not appear to be an overly pleasant experience judging by the woman’s expression. The women swiftly moved the proceeding along and kissing turned to groping. The fondling in turn lead to the need for a more private venue.

As the threesome moved from the corridor to an unoccupied room not too far away Rose stepped back into the shadows to avoid being seen.

When the door clicked shut Rose felt her knees go weak. She simultaneously wanted to run away, and barge into the room and hit Decem. She decided to wait and confront him.

Rose waited in the shadows listening to the sounds of Decem’s coupling, the moans, the groans, and the exclamations of ecstasy.

Eventually, the door open and the two women scurried out, each carrying a hefty bag of coins. Decem remained in the room for some time after the prostitutes had left and still Rose waited.

When at last he emerged from the room Rose stepped forward, hands balled into fists, body shaking.

“How could you?” she spat.

Decem looked up from fixing his breeches with surprise. “Rose?”

“How could you?”* she hissed at him again.

He looked at her with an expression full of apathy, “You had chosen him.”*

His matter-of-fact attitude shocked her. How could he think she had just chosen Novem over him?

“So he would spare your life!”* she cried in anguish.

She was desperate for him to understand what and why she had done it, but he did not care.

“You could have married me.” He stepped towards her an air of coldness emanating from him. “But you chose the power he could give you.”

Rose opened her mouth to argue but he continued on relentlessly, “You sold yourself, no more than the tarts in my bed.”*

Rose staggered back at those words, tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. She shook her head as if trying to deny that he had said those words. But he had said them. He meant them and did not care how they hurt her.

Rose turned from him and fled. She ran to her rooms, to safety, barely holding in the sobs that threatened to escape her.

How could he do such a thing to her? She had loved him with all her heart, and he had ... he had ...

  
Rose tumbled onto the bed. Unable to hold back the wall of betrayal and grief she began to weep. The sobs ripped through her with such force that her whole body shook.

After everything, how could he? After the incident with Madame du Pompadour and with his brother in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden. She had forgiven him for all that and loved him still. And yet he had betrayed her in the cruellest manner and even worse he had not cared how his treachery had hurt her; how it had broken her heart, wrenched from her chest and tore it into a thousand pieces.

She did not know how long she had lain there crying but tiredness eventually took over and sleep mercifully claimed her.

***


	27. And Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Notes:  
> Smut  
> All dialogue taken from the video is marked with *.  
> Latin:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Ten = Decem

When Rose woke the next morning, it took her a few minutes to remember why she felt so exhausted and wretched. Memories of the previous day and Decem's betrayal made their unwelcome presence known. They threatened to send Rose into another bout of tears.

Her dark and morose thoughts were only interrupted when Rose realized she was undressed down to her chemise and was under the covers. The last thing she remembered was lying on top of the covers crying and fully dressed. She had no recollection of getting undressed and climbing into bed during the night. But she must have done. Or perhaps it had been Raffalo who had come in late last night and done it. Either way she was far more comfortable now then what she might have been if she had still been fully dressed.

Before her thoughts could drag her down any further there was a gentle knock at the door and Raffalo entered.

"It's midmorning milady, 'bout time you got up," she said as she busied herself opening up the curtains and one or two of the windows. When she had finished that she finally turned and had a proper look at Rose.

"Oh, milady! You look a sight. I'll get something to clean up your face."

With that she set about filling the wash basin with warm water and getting a cloth. She brought them over to the bedside, dipped the cloth into the warm water and began to clean Rose's face.

It was refreshing to have the old tears washed away and Rose did feel somewhat brighter after.

Raffalo wanted to ask what caused Rose to be in such a state but she held her tongue. It was clear something terrible had happened, but her mistress was far too miserable to be questioned at present. She would know all in time. Still, she could not help but wonder if it had something to do with Lord Decem. Trouble and heartache followed that man like a bad smell, and after what happened in Dårlig Ulv-Stranden it had to be him.

"There now, that should make you feel better," Raffao said sitting back and giving Rose the once over. Her brow furrowed. "Em, milady, why are you still in your chemise and not in your nightdress?"

Rose looked up at her puzzled, her brow furrowing too.

"Was not it you who took me out of my day dress last night?"

"No, milady, it wasn't me. I was going to come in last night, but his Majesty told me you were already asleep and not to disturb you. He must have undressed you and not wanted to wake you by letting me redress you."

"Hmmm. Yes, perhaps you are right."

If it was not Raffalo then it had to have been Novem. But why would he do such a thing, she thought. She had been distraught over Decem's betrayal and Novem would have guessed the object of her distress, if not the specific reason. So, knowing that, why would he undress her to make her more comfortable and put her under the covers to sleep? Why would he not let Raffalo wake her and undress her? Did he really stop Raffalo just in case she woke Rose up? Why would he show her such kindness after what she had done?

While Rose was absorbed in her thoughts trying to piece together Novem’s motives, Raffalo was busy tidying the room, fixing Rose's clothes and brought her breakfast.

Rose took one look at the food and realised she was not remotely hungry, and idly played with the food as she once again became lost in her circularly thoughts.

"Oh, milady, you really must try and eat something."

"I'm not really very hungry, Raff."

"But you must eat something to keep your energy up."

Rose made a face at this.

"Well if you're not going to eat something for yourself at least have a few bites of toast so that I don't have to spend the rest of the day worrying that you're going to collapse from lack of food. Please?"

Rose sighed, took a small bite of toast and looked at Raffalo pointedly.

"Thank you, milady. I'll be down the corridor if you need anything."

"Thank you, Raff."

Raffalo left and Rose was once again on her own with her thoughts.

She was not alone for long though as Novem entered the room shortly after.

Rose felt a twinge in her gut at the sight of him. She had married him, become his Queen and yet all the while she had loved Decem. The way Decem treated her was not so very different from the way that she had treated Novem. With this knowledge and realisation came shame and guilt.

Rose looked anywhere but at Novem.

"Raffalo tells me that you are not eating much."

"I am not very hungry."

"You should try to eat something; you will need your strength and energy, especially for the day ahead."

Now Rose was looking at him.

"What is happening today"

"We are going out riding."

"I do not want to go."

Novem looked at her curiously with a raised eyebrow. Rose realised what she had said not only sounded rude but also childish. She blushed and tried to correct what she had said.

"Thank you for the invitation, but I am not feeling well, and I am not up to going out riding today."

Novem stood up straighter and settled Rose with a stern stare.

"Rose, you are my wife and Queen, but I am the King and what I say goes. We are going riding today and that is final. You have no choice in this instance. Raffalo will be into you shortly to get you ready and we will set off in one hour."

With that he turned and left the room, leaving a stunned and flabbergasted Rose behind him.

When Raffalo re-entered the room, it looked as if Rose had not moved a muscle, other than to produce a scowl.

Rose’s shame and guilt had quickly turned to fury. Uncalled for and misplaced as it was, her emotions were in such a chaotic state that she had no hope in stopping the rage that bubbled up within her.

"Come on milday, we need to get you ready."

No sooner had Rose gotten out of bed then she started muttering angrily under her breath. Raffalo caught phases like, "Power hungry ... Controlling … Who does he think he is? ... Men! ... Ordering me about like a servant!"

Raffalo smiled to herself as she got Rose ready. Irritation and annoyance were better that glum and sullen.

The expletives continued and as they did Rose absentmindedly ate her breakfast with forceful and angry movements.

Rose was still muttering even as they entered the stables. But she managed to pull herself together enough to stop glowering when Novem, Gwen, and Ianto came into view.

Novem gave Rose an appraising look before nodding in satisfaction. “The horses are ready,” he said. “Gwen and Ianto will be accompanying us.”

Rose bid good afternoon to the two guards before climbing onto her horse.

They set off out into the mild and dry day, and made their way through the city in silence, Ianto and Gwen staying resolutely behind the royal couple watching for any danger.

When they reached the Royal Pastures Ianto and Gwen slowed and gave the couple some space.

When they were out of ear shot of the two guards Novem spoke, "Jack tells me that you are as competent riding astride as any man he has seen. Is it true?"

"I would not know, would I? I would not have the knowledge as a woman to know what makes a good rider," Rose replied stonily.

Novem was silent for a short while before speaking again.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. You may be a Queen, but you are, as you said, only a woman. What would you know? And Jack does like to exaggerate things, does he not?"

Rose found her temper flaring and her horse gave several nervous sidesteps at the change in her rider's ire. How dare he! She raged internally. How dare he insult her like this! He had the audacity to drag her out her in the first place, he waits until the guards are out of earshot and then he insults and belittles her. Oh, how she wanted to hit him for it.

"I am a very good rider," she retorted.

"Oh, are you? I thought you just said that because you are a woman you could not tell. But if you say that you are a good rider then I suppose I will just have to take your word for it."

“I am a good rider, and I can prove it!" she was shaking now.

"Oh?" he asked almost bored with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

"We will have a race. From here to the mountain pass road. If I win you admit that I am a better rider than you. Publicly."

"And if I win?"

"You will not."

Novem considered this before saying, "Very well, if you are sure."

Rose nodded. She swung here right leg over the saddle and fixed herself so that she was properly sitting astride in the saddle.

Novem signalled to Ianto and Gwen to remain behind.

"Ready?" Rose asked. "On three. One, two, three."

And they were off.

Novem knew full well from Jack that Rose was an excellent rider, but he needed her to prove it, not to him but to herself. To prove to herself that if she put her mind to it, she could do anything she wanted. And that there was more to life than Decem.

As her horse galloped, as its hooves ate up the distance like it was nothing, as the wind whipped around her, catching her hair and making her eyes water, Rose forgot all about Decem and his betrayal. She forgot her anger with Novem, too. She was just in the moment, leaning over the neck of her horse, urging it to go faster and feeling her own heartbeat faster with each and every stride. Rose smiled and then laughed. The exhilaration, the freedom, it was perfect, and she lost herself in it. It no longer mattered whether she won or lost, not when she felt like this.

They arrived at the Mountain Pass Road neck and neck. They slowed and eventually came to a stop.

"A draw I think?" Novem asked.

"Yes, a draw."

Novem looked at Rose. "You are smiling."

Rose nodded sheepishly. "Yes I ... I enjoyed that gallop."

"Good. I am glad you did. You needed it."

Novem turned his horse and began the journey back. Rose stared after him.

Had he done that on purpose? Had he riled her up to get her to race because he knew she needed to let go and release the tension and emotion that had built up within her? He had, hadn't he?

Rose smiled sadly as she followed after Novem. She really did not deserve him.

Novem kept his pace slow until Rose had caught up and then they made their way back to Ianto and Gwen together.

By the time they returned to the palace it was well into the afternoon and they were both starving. The pair went straight to their rooms and ordered an early dinner.

The meal was a quiet affair. The emotional upheaval of the last number of days had taken its toll on both of them.

After dinner they went to Novem’s sitting room.

Novem sat staring into the fire, drinking his third whiskey.

He spoke suddenly, as if he could not hold the words back, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “I know why you were so upset last night and today. I know what he did.”

Rose looked up from her glass of wine, her eyes filling with tears.

“I know you lov… care about him more than me.” He looked over at Rose, his eyes filled with such pain and anguish.

Rose found she could not look away.

He abruptly stood and began pacing, his emotions not letting him stay still. “Please Rose. Forget him, his is not worthy of you. Let me take care of you. I will not let anyone hurt you like that, not even myself. Forget our deal, I will wait a thousand days if it will take away your pain and dry your tears.”

Rose gave a strangled sob. Her hands shaking so much she had to put her wine glass down lest she spill it. She gripped handfuls of her dress to try and stem to quivering.

Damn Decem! Damn it all! Decem had betrayed her in the cruellest way possible. How could she even begin to forgive him for such an act? She had done her utmost to save his life, she had gone grovelling to Novem all so that lousy piece of worthless skin could go and run after the nearest bit of skirt that he could find. While he had chased after those tarts Novem had never done such a thing to her and he was the King. Even though a King’s reputation is commonly built upon his virility, Novem had not once strayed even though she had treated him with distain and all but humiliated him in front of the whole court.

“I am sorry,” she gasped around the tears. “I am so sorry.”

Novem came to her, knelt before her, and took her trembling hands in his, kissing them feverishly.

“Give me the word,” he whispered ardently. “Give me the word, and I will never let him hurt you like this again.”*

Rose looked at Novem. His blue eyes shining bright with so many emotions. Oh, what a fool she was. She had married the King, was Queen of all Gallifrey, and the King knelt before her asking for her to stand by his side.

She had loved Decem, and a part of her always would, but what a shallow love it was. Novem was offering her the world and would wait for her. Decem? He had used her like he had used so many women.

Rose reached out with a shaking hand to cup Novem’s face. He leaned into her hand his gaze never straying from hers.

Rose realised it was not the King who knelt before her but simply a man. Every layer and mask, his very soul was laid bare to her. Just like that evening in the reservoir. Rose felt an emotion, similar to what she had felt in the reservoir, that she could not name take hold of her. It was a wonderful and terrible feeling, one that promised bliss and pain in equal measure.

Novem was offering her everything. She could have everything. Power. Control. Love.

Rose leaned into Novem, resting her forehead against his.

Yes, she thought, as she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. She would have everything.

Rose pulled back from the kiss and smiled, “Yes.”*

~~*~~

At dawn the next day the council was called and the evidence against Decem was given in absentia. With the verdict given and passed, Decem was brought before the while court, not just the council, in a public display of his downfall.

Decem was dragged into the Great Hall in chains, two guards flanking either side.

Rose looked down at him from her throne. He looked dishevelled and confused but there was still an air of arrogance about him.

Novem stood from his throne beside Rose and stepped down the dais.

“My Lords and Ladies of the court, this man you see before you has committed crimes against the throne.”* Novem called out to the room, his voice strong and clear, the voice of a King.

“Rose stop him!”* Decem exclaimed, his voice full of desperation and yet there remained a hint of confidence.

However, Rose remained impassive and turned from Decem to Novem, giving her husband the smallest of nods.

She felt a dark, powerful thrill. She understood now how her husband could look so confident, so detached, so scornful at times; it was astonishing to have so much more power than everyone else.

Novem stepped forward closer to Decem, exuding complete power and control.

“Lord Decem, you have been charged with plotting treason to overthrow the throne. To which you have been found guilty.”*

“What? No.” Decem struggled as the guards began to drag him away. “Rose! Rose!” he cried out her name pleading with her to look at him. To stop all of this. But she did neither, she simply sat there looking out at the crowd as he was dragged away.

The noise that erupted from the gathered courtiers was deafening, far louder than when Lady Cassandra had been arrested. This was juicy gossip and would be talked about for weeks, even months, to come. The King had arrested his own cousin for treason. And better still the accused had called out to the King’s wife to save him. But then again, did they not all know that the Queen had once been very taken with Lord Decem, before she had set her sights on the King. They had best not say that too loudly in case word got back to either monarch that there was such slander going around.

The court watched with eager eyes as the King returned up the dais to his Queen and offered his hand. They left the Hall arm in arm, the picture of a united front. Once the royal couple had left the gossip began in earnest.

~~*~~

The cold damp air wrapped around Novem like a heavy coat of chain mail as he descended the tight spiral staircase to the dungeons later that evening. The dimness of the sparsely placed flaming torches along the walls gave the impression of a never-ending twilight and only added to the murky atmosphere.

In the bleakest, most cramped cell in the dungeons Novem found Decem.

“Come to gloat?” Decem spat, a hint of arrogance still lingering about his person.

Novem gazed at his cousin. He was not yet broken but he soon would be and Novem would enjoy every second of it.

“I have come to tell you that Rose no longer wishes to have anything to do with you. You will not write to her or ask to see her.”

Decem bared his teeth in contempt, “You really are a conceited bastard! You think you can keep her away from me? She loves me!”

"No, she does not,” Novem mocked, leaning close to the cell bars. “Your pride, your arrogance drove her from you! You sought to own her, to possess her and when you were bored of her you threw her aside. If she took you back how long would it take before there was another Madame du Pompadour? Or those two working girls the other day? You do not deserve her!"

"And you do? What of your pride, oh great King of Gallifrey?"

"No, I do not deserve her, but I will make myself worthy of her. Would you be willing to change for her or would you cling to the past, unwilling to compromise, always seeking your own gratification? I would give up everything for her! What would you give up?"

Decem scoffed.

Novem stepped back, composing himself. “In regards to your charge, your punishment is not death.”*

“Why is that then?” Decem derided. “Did your Queen beg you to save me again?”* he asked mockingly.

Novem paused before answering, savouring the moment of sweet victory. “She is the one who asked for your arrest,” he whispered triumphantly. “She does not give second chances.”*

Taken aback by what her heard Decem quickly recovered. Straining against the chains that bound him he spat out, “You cannot hurt me.”*

With gleeful hatred Novem hissed, “Watch!”*

He then turned on his heel and left Decem to rot in the cold, damp, cage of a cell.

~~*~~

Rose had felt remarkedly contented after watching Decem be arrested. It was as if a great burden had been lifted. Her heart felt light and free.

She stood in the royal roof garden, the last rays of autumn sunlight on the horizon colouring the sky a brilliant orange and pink, and the dance of fire light from the torches played across the greenery.

Rose closed her eyes and listened to strains of music traveling on the wind from a party somewhere around the palace. She swayed in time to the music and was so lost in the moment that she almost missed the sound of Novem approaching.

He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. They moved gently to the music for some time before Novem broke the silence, “Will you wake for me now?”* His question echoed that which he asked several days prior.

This time Rose gave an affirmative answer. Tuning in his arms she cupped his face and kissed him deeply.

When they broke apart, he looked down at her with such joy in his eyes. He stepped back and took hold of her hands and twirled her.

Suddenly finding herself dancing in the still evening air a laugh bubbled up from Rose.

Novem looked down at her, admiring the way the torchlight brought out the rick golden hues in her hair, and wondered how he had ever existed before she came into his life. Rose had burst into his life like a shooting star and bewitched some unknown part of him that he had not been aware he possessed.

Around and around they danced growing closer all the time until all they could do was sway. They kissed again, this time deeper and longer, a promise of what was to come.

Novem looked down at Rose and silently asked a question. Rose gave her answer through a slow and lingering caress of his face and the pair moved towards the doors.

~~*~~

On a balcony high above the couple two guards held a bound and gagged Decem.

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind where the couple were going and what would happen next.

Decem writhed against the bindings that held him.

“Arrgghh!”*

He screamed repeatedly into his gag, desperate for Rose to hear him. Pleading with the Gods and Goddesses. Not him, he begged, anyone but him. But she continued to caress Novem’s face and entwine their bodies.

There was nothing Decem could do, no matter how he thrashed he was held tight by the chains and Rose could not hear him.

The sound of her sultry laugh echoed up to him and he lurched to his knees, tears pricking his eyes.

He had been outmanoeuvred, overpowered, and the control wrested from his grasp.

She had gone with that man. How could she? Why? She was supposed to be his. He had lost. Lost her. Lost to Novem.

When at last the couple had disappeared into their chambers the guards yanked a limp Decem to his feet and hauled him back down to the dungeons.

~~*~~

As they moved inside, Novem forgot all about his prisoner. His wife, his Queen, had all of his attention.

He moved to kiss her, but she drew back, trailing her fingers gently down the side of his face. “Why me?” she asked. “Why did you choose to marry me?”

She had wondered about it a thousand times, but she had never asked him before. And now, she suddenly found she needed to know the answer.

Novem sighed. “I wish I knew.” He kissed her lips gently and then moved to her nose which he nudged playfully before pressing fluttery kisses across her forehead and over her eyelids which had flickered closed. “Because you are intelligent, warm, and kind-hearted?” His hands gripped her tight. “And yet infuriating and brave to the point of folly at the same time. And beautiful, like a siren of old. It is a heady combination.” He pressed another soft kiss on her mouth, “Or perhaps I am just a fool.”

He took her then, in a fierce, hard kiss as desire surged through him. And Rose answered him, opening her lips at the urging of his tongue and pressing herself closer against him. Her hands roamed over his chest, then curled round his shoulders and buried themselves in his short hair.

She moaned with pleasure. It was like nothing she had experienced before.

She and Mickey had been adventurous in their love, although they had never gone all the way, an unplanned pregnancy had not been desired by either of them. Rose had felt a man’s hands on her body before and knew what a man would feel like. But this was different, desire burned within her, alighting every cell in her body like she had never felt before.

Novem undid her hair, pin by delicate pin, dropping them carelessly on the floor. Watching as the hair came undone and fell about her shoulders. He ran a hand through the locks, pulling at the base causing her to close her eyes in pleasure.

Rose could feel her pulse pounding in her centre, and she ran her hands along Novem’s chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath his shirt. She pulled the end of said shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers and slipped her hands underneath.

He was captivated by her. The look in her eyes, the smile playing on her lips, the way her hands trailed hot paths across his abdomen.

He undid the laces of her bodice until it was fully open, and her dress fell to the floor around her feet.

Clad only in her chemise Rose, tugged his shirt up and over his head.

Novem’s eyes roam over her entire body and his normally bright eyes are almost black with lust. Rose answered his desiring gaze with her own.

It did not take long for Rose to shed her chemise and Novem his breeches, both of which joined Rose’s dress on the floor.

Novem stood completely naked in front of her, and Rose could feel the wetness pooling at her centre just at the sight of him. Her eyes wandered over his body, taking in every inch of him. She held out her hand and led him over to the bed.

Feeling the thrill at the desire she aroused within him, the power she had over him, she lay down on the bed looking up at him with hungry eyes.

Novem leaned over her slowly, a dark and lustful grin playing on his lips. He took one of her legs and kissed her ankle before making his way kissing and nipping gently up her leg, and over her abdomen, to her breasts and neck, and finally claiming her lips.

Rose could feel his hardening length pressing into her and it only fuelled her desire.

“Novem?”

“Yes, my love?”

Rose smiled; he had never called her that before. She liked the sound of it. She leaned up letting her tongue gentle tease his lips. “I want all of you. Now.”

Novem gave a primal growl at her words. “If that is what my Queen wishes.”

He moved down her body, trailing kisses over her skin as he went. When he reached her thighs, he gently pushed open her legs. He kept one hand splayed on her inner thigh, holding it open, while he lowered his mouth to her clit.

Rose gasped at the contact.

His tongue circled her clit teasingly while with the one, then two fingers, he pushed inside her.

She moaned, tipping her head back as he worked his tongue over her clit and his fingers inside her.

Then his fingers were slipping out of her and leaving her achingly empty.

He moved back up, giving her a look that asked, “Are you sure? Are you ready?”

Rose answered by wrapping her arms around him, her hands tangling in the short strands of his hair again, pulling him closer. His fingers briefly dug into her waist before he moved and positioned himself at her entrance.

With a deep groan escaping his lips, he pressed into her. Rose tensed a little as her body adjusted to the new sensation.

Their eyes met and Novem leaned in, capturing her lips in brief yet searing kiss. He started to move his hips a little when she finally relaxed against him.

Enjoying the sensations that he gave her in each thrust, Rose wrapped her legs around his hips, gripping him tightly, eager to get everything she could from him.

His lips crash against hers once more as his hips slowly withdrew before sinking back down. A small sigh of pleasure escaped from Rose’s lips, he felt amazing.

Rose brought her hands around his body and cupped his backside, pushing his hips into hers. She nipped at his lips which made him increase the speed of his thrusts, but it was not enough. She needed more, so she pushed her hips up, meeting his every thrust, urging him on.

He let out a growl of pleasure.

One of his hands slid down her body and his fingers spread her folds and found the bundle of nerves there. Her body was on fire, every nerve taut with pleasure.

His lips were at her throat, laying wet kisses along the exposed flesh.

She could feel the pleasure build, a coiling delicious pleasure in her muscles. He was getting close too. He was panting loudly, noises of pleasure slipping from his lips, and it was like music to her ears.

And finally, when she thought she could not take any more of the building pressure, she climaxed with his name on her lips, pulling him over the edge with her.

Afterwards, still gasping for air, his fingertips circled gently over her hips.

Novem’s hand stayed on her waist, and with his other hand he stroked her cheek, thumb tracing her cheekbone, brushing the corner of her mouth as she smiled.

Rose moved her head to press a quick kiss to the hand at her cheek and he gave a breathy laugh before moving off her and lying beside her, a hand still caressing her face.

They lay sated and silent for quite some time, the candles burning low, before Novem eventually broke the silence. “You were sent by the Goddesses themselves to bewitch me. I am powerless against you.”

Those words had quite an effect on Rose, and she felt the desire start to build within her once more.

“Well,” she smiled seductively, “Let us see how much power I have over you”

She pushed his gently so that he was lying on his back and brought her leg over to straddle him. She then pinned his arms above his head and kissed him leisurely. Her lips were on his jaw and neck, nipping and licking every inch of exposed skin, before moving down to pepper kisses on his chest and abdomen.

Novem was quite happy to relinquish all control to her and let himself get lost in the sensations, his arousal growing with each kiss and caress.

When he was ready, Rose moved, lifting her hips and slowly lowering herself down onto him.

She leaned back, her hands on his chest for leverage and began to move her hips. A hum of pleasure escaped from Novem’s lips.

He moved and took her hands in his, leaning up to kiss her.

“I love you, Rose,” he whispered against her lips.

“And I you,” Rose murmured back. And she knew it to be true.

That feeling which had begun the evening in the Reservoir and had grown since then, she could now name. Love. She loved Novem with all her heart. Her feelings for Decem had been shallow and naïve, she had been swept up in his charm and charisma. It had not been a deep or lasting love like she now understood it was with Novem.

Rose pushed him back down and leaned over him to kiss him again, desire coursing through her as their tongues moved together. She continued to rock her hips against him and fervently swallowed the noises of pleasure that slipped from his lips.

His hands stroked over her thighs where she straddled him before grasping her waist. He began to thrust into her as she rocked on top of him. The sensation made her catch her breath.

She leaned down and moved her hands to interlace their fingers as he continued to roll his hips up at a steady pace matching hers.

His mouth was eager for her and he nipped at her bottom lip causing her to moan, his fingers flexing in her hands at the sound.

He broke off to lean forward and lick one nipple and then the other, before taking them into his mouth in turn. He let go of one of her hands and moved it down to tease her clit.

Her movements became more hurried and less even. She could feel her inner muscles starting to tighten around him and she frantically twitched her hips to rub her clit against his thumb. The pressure within her continued to build until at last it broke. Her orgasm washed through her like a crashing wave, Novem’s continuing thrusts carrying her along and drawing it out as she keened. She felt him shudder under her and he cried out her name as he came inside her.

Afterwards, they lay together, Novem on his back his arm around Rose who was curled up next to him, her head on his chest.

As Novem stroked her arm with lazy, sated movements Rose thought of how far she had come since arriving at the palace.

She had, against all the odds, achieved what she had only dreamed about. She found a husband, a man to love and be loved by. Moreover, she had become Queen too. And then this very night she had discovered the heady sensation of having her husband, the King, at her mercy moaning her name and writhing beneath her in the pleasure she had been giving him.

She smiled to herself and in Novem’s arms, she relished this new and developing feeling of power and control.

***


	28. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, the final chapter! ^.^  
> If you haven’t already watched Lilyandtherose’s videos then go do that now, they’re fantastic.   
> [Power and Control Series](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLauBJ_ZapLLyXixXXXVEVIQZZFlKI6Oa-)  
> (Also I reference some things from the videos in this chapter). If you have already seen the videos then why not watch them again. Have I mentioned they’re fantastic? ;)   
> I've also used and adapted another of Lilyandtherose’s videos in this chapter -   
> [Nine & Rose | | Baby Scene [AU]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkgN2Vqwn2E)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has bookmarked, subscribed, left kudos or a comment, I really appreciate your support.
> 
> Chapter Notes:  
> Nine = Novem  
> Thirteen = Tredecim

Rose woke gradually, her mind moving reluctantly from the tranquillity of sleep. She blinked slowly, looking out the window through the gap in the curtains with a drowsy gaze.

They were at the Torchwood estate and had been for the past week.

Novem had re-established the annual two-week trip to Dårlig Ulv-Stranden after the war. He had said that he and Jack had loved the trips when they were boys, and now he would like his own children to have that experience too.

Rose looked over her shoulder and saw that the space next to her empty. She reached out a hand and found that the mattress was cold. Novem had been gone a while then. He always had been more of an early riser compared to her.

She rolled on to her back and stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting aimlessly from one thought to another.

It had not been an easy seven years; much had transpired over the years and not all of it good.

There had been the rebellion and then the war, and for a time Rose had even thought that Novem was lost to her. To this day she shuddered at the thought of that time, at the pain and grief that had consumed her in those few months. But Novem had not been dead and he had returned to her. They had won the war and welcomed a son and heir into the world, and all had seemed well.

However, their happiness did not go unchallenged. Rose had two miscarriages between the births of her son and daughter.

Her grief over the loss had been acute. She knew that many women had, and would, experience miscarriages but at the time there had been no words to explain the depth of despair that she went through. It had been equal to her grief of when she thought she had lost Novem. She could not understand how in one moment all her happiness and hopes for the future had been real and the next it had vanished from all existence. Novem had not blamed her but she had blamed herself, that she had failed as Queen and as a mother.

She had heard people talking about being numb with grief. She had supposed that was why she had outwardly maintained an appearance of calm, whilst inside she had felt so terribly cold. Mechanically seeing to all the necessary details, it had only been after the burial in the royal tombs when she had caught sight of a baby’s blanket that it had hit her that she would never see her child grow up. That was when the tears had begun to flow. The first miscarriage had left her distraught, while the second one, no less real or painful, had been a little easier as she understood more of what was happening physically and mentally.

Then there was Donna, poor Donna. Her grandfather had passed two years ago, and she had not been the same since then. Her mind had taken the brunt of the heartache and stricken by grief she had become more forgetful. It had begun to get worse in the last number of months, to the point where she was now struggling to recognised Novem or Rose.

On a happier note, Jack and Ianto had married four years previous. It had been a small, quiet ceremony with only close friends and family. While marriages such as Jack and Ianto’s were not unheard of in Gallifrey there were rare and had the wedding been in any way more public than it was, then the curiosity of the masses would have overwhelmed the ceremony.

Martha and Mickey were happily married and living in the south of the kingdom. Mickey had excelled in his military training and had quickly risen through the ranks. Martha, having completed her medical training under Doctor Constantine, was on the front lines by Mickey’s side as the senior doctor. In her last letter to Rose she spoke of starting military training herself.

Sally and Larry were off traveling again, this time to Cheem. Rose had organised for an exhibition of all Larry’s paintings and drawings to be held in the Great Hall and for Sally to give a talk on their adventures when the couple returned in a few months. She had written to Jabe also inviting her to be their guest of honour at the exhibition.

She saw her mother as often as she could. Jackie was living quite comfortably in a refurbished Tyler manor with a full company of staff and her new fiancé.

Eventually, Rose decided she must get up, leaving her thoughts of the past behind.

Rising with nimble movements, she padded across the cold stone floor to her vanity. She gave her hair a quick brush, and once done, paused before picking up a small golden locket that lay in the centre of the dresser.

She smiled fondly as she looked down at it.

It bore the royal coat of arms on one side, the galaxy swirl beneath a moon and three stars in the centre of the shield with a crown above a sun on top, and her family’s crest on the other, a full body silhouette of a howling wolf with roses entwined behind it. Inside there was a miniature portrait of her father, a copy of the one in Tyler manor, on the right, and one of her mother on the left. Novem had given it to her a number of years ago for her birthday. Rose found it quite amusing that the year he had given it to her she had also commissioned miniature portraits of his parents in an elegant and bespoke carved wooden case.

With a last tender look she placed the locket back on the vanity and got her dressing gown and a pair of slippers.

Once sufficiently wrapped up against the early morning chill she made her way through the royal apartments into a bedroom on the far side.

She took a small step into the room, leaning around the door and glancing at the bed. But the bed was empty. It was in a right state, the covers all jumbled together and more on the ground then on the bed itself.

Rose sighed quietly to herself.

There was only one place young Dominick could be and that was with Jack. He adored his uncle Jack, mainly because Jack spoiled him. Although Rose was convinced that the pair got on so well because her son and Jack had the same juvenile sense of humour; and while Novem never out right agreed with her, he always had to stifle a smirk when she mentioned it.

If Dominick was with Jack, then that meant Ianto and Gwen would be with him too. Ianto would not be far from his husband’s side and Gwen would no doubt be tearing after them hoping that Jack did not put her daughter, Anwen, or the young Prince in any danger.

Anwen and Dominick were only a few months apart in age; they had been raised together in Tardis’s nursery and had become fast friends, much the same way Novem and Jack had.

Rose returned to her bedroom and went to the apartment doors, opening them slightly and sticking her head out.

The guard on duty saluted her, “Highness.”

“Ah Alfonso, do you know where Dominick is?”

Alfonso grinned, “He’s with Jack, Highness. They went out about an hour ago, just as the sun was rising.”

Rose nodded, “That is what I thought. Thank you, Alfonso.”

Alfonso bowed to her and Rose retreated back inside the apartment. She went to the sideboard and poured herself a drink, and glass in hand she went in search of Novem and her daughter.

She found them in the bathroom.

Rose stood at the door leaning against its frame, watching the heart-warming scene, a small smile playing on her lips.

Father and daughter were enjoying an early morning bath, and Novem was singing quietly to her. 

Little Tredecim was not a year old and yet she had her father wrapped around her finger. She was a good natured but feisty baby and Rose could tell already that her daughter was going to be a handful, as wilful and adventurous as both her parents. She would probably turn her father’s hair prematurely grey with stress from all her antics and she would most certainly break many hearts when she was older.

Rose closed her eyes and listened to her husband’s melodic singing.

It had not been an easy number of years; there had been many wonderful ups and terrifying downs, but Rose would not give any of it up, not for a second. She had a loving and adoring husband, whom she loved just as much, and two wonderful and beautiful children. She had her crown and her kingdom, and all the power and control she could wish for.

She had all that she could ever want or need. She had a good life. And with Novem by her side, their reign would be strong and true.

Long may they reign.

***

Fin


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